Quite the Mess
by AmySoto
Summary: After the disastrous fall of Kirkwall the Hawke siblings scramble to find new purpose. Meanwhile a woman walks out of the Fade and shakes Thedas to its core. Canon is loosely held to, my own imagination abounds! Many same sex pairings so if not your thing please note this warning. Chapters getting a polish: currently up to #9. Updating old and hopefully new chapters coming soon.
1. Chapter 1: A Letter To Old Friends

Haven was on fire. All around the sounds of fighting echoed through the mountains, creating a pulsating wave of desperation and fear.

The Hawke siblings had journeyed to the Ferelden mainland in response to a letter from their old friend Varric. In it he had described many fantastical and troubling things, including red lyrium of which the siblings knew all too well. Without invitation they had left the Free Marches almost instantly only taking time to alert Aveline of their departure before boarding a ship Captained by another old associate.

Their journey had been filled with whispered conversations trying to figure out what in the Maker's name was going on, and now as they looked to the lower peak of a mountain they knew this at least. Corypheus, the Ancient Magister they had fought and killed nearly a decade ago, had returned.

"We have to get down there and help," Garrett said solemnly to his elder sister. In silent response Marian drew her greatsword and nodded.

* * *

Down in the midst of the fighting Dorian found himself in uncomfortable close quarters combat. Alongside Iron Bull, Cassandra and Varric he raced behind Tara Trevelyan towards the trebuchet they needed to use to stop the rapidly advancing army. It was a suicide mission that Tara had initially offered to engage in alone. Cassandra would not allow it, and the rest of them had offered their help readily as well. The Tevinter native had been almost honored to be selected by the Ostwick noble to watch her back. Not many people trusted him because of his origins, but Tara was always ready to compliment his skill and his loyalty.

Both of which could easily be assumed to be on shaky ground at the moment, especially considering the giant dragon spewing red electric flame all around them and the demon army closing in like a vice. But he would prove them wrong, he was proving them wrong. Casting spell after spell even as his mana burned through his body in ever weakening waves.

Suddenly a black clad woman rocketed down into the midst of the fray, a mage, and a powerful one at that. She cast a huge wave of magic knocking all but Tara, who leapt high of the blast, off of their feet. True to her nature the small rouge woman acted like a Qunari wielding a battle-axe, and charged towards her new opponent.

Dorian moved to get up but the scream of a demon froze him in place. His eyes moved up to find the monster looming directly overhead. He rolled away as talons shredded into the earth he had been laying on and lifted a hand to cast a defensive barrier. His magic flickered and died at his fingertips. His mana reserves finally depleted. The cold feeling of fear crept into his chest as the creature again raised its claws. Out of the corner of his eye Dorian also saw Tara fly back as a blast of magic caught her off guard.

They were overrun. They were going to die. And they hadn't even bought Cullen and the others enough time to get a head start to escape. Out of nowhere a ferocious rage filled war cry rang out above the noise of the battle. A large ball of fire slammed into the demon above Dorian, incinerating it instantly. As it faded to ash a towering woman clad in heavy armor rushed past the blinking mage and hurled herself at Tara's opponent like a blooded hound, giving the rouge time to regain her feet.

A large hand closed around Dorian's upper arm and dragged him back onto his own feet. The mage turned to thank his rescuer, who he assumed was Iron Bull, but instead his gaze collided with a set of burning blue eyes. The hulking man at his side smiled slightly and pressed a vial of lyrium into his hands before turning and rushing towards where Varric stood raining down suppressing fire. Dorian downed the potion and threw himself back into the fight, still silently wondering who these two newcomers were.

"Hawke!?" Dorian heard Varric cry out in a confused voice. "What in Andraste's name are you two doing _here_!?"

"Helping," a deep masculine voice responded as lighting lit the battlefield cooking many of the creatures in an unforgiving chain. Impressive.

"Hawke," Cassandra's voice shouted in angry shock as she cut down a demon before her, her eyes moving to accusingly glare at the dwarf.

"We can talk about this _if_ we survive okay Seeker."

"You need to cheer up Varric," the burly mage called out as he moved to flank Iron Bull, shielding the warrior as he carved a line to the trebuchet. Together the two hulking individuals managed to move the war machine into position just as Tara and the warrior woman managed to take down the former Enchanter Fiona.

For a moment the battle stilled, and the group of fighters all took a minute to breath. "Good work everyone," Tara said as she moved towards the trebuchet. "We still might make it."

A terrifying roar split the sky overhead and they all looked up. Time stood still, as the Elder One's dragon dove down towards them. "MOVE NOW," Tara shouted, shoving her nearest companions clear of the impending blast.

It was all a blur of terrific proportions after that. Dorian watched Tara stand alone before the Elder One, who named himself as Corypheus, and his pet dragon. An archer by trade, it had been odd to watch her heft a sword into her slim hands, shouting her defiance at the powerful creature. "I am not afraid of you!"

"A phrase many mortals say," Corypheus had responded mockingly, but Dorian had known that his friend meant every syllable. The truth of her words was punctuated when Tara swung the blade into the restraint cable of the trebuchet, letting it fire wildly into the mountain just behind where they all stood. The avalanche had come then, and for all he had known, Tara had vanished in the flurry of ice and snow.

For their part, Dorian and the others had raced to get to the Chantry before the snow swallowed them as well. Diving down into the secret passageway, shoving and carrying one another down the narrow chute until they found themselves collapsing before the rest of Haven's escapees.

Cullen raced towards them then, shoving aside soldiers and civilians alike. "Tara…?" He asked, his voice tight, his eyes already dulling as he noted the Ostwick noblewoman's absence. Cassandra shook her head and the blonde man nodded, his eyes then falling to two surprisingly familiar faces. "Garrett? Marian?"

"Hello Cullen," the hulking mage said getting to his feet and moving to shake the commander's hand. "Tell us how we can help. Do you have any injured? I can assist them." The fierce looking warrior woman, named Marian, was the next to reach her feet, assisting Varric to his as she moved. Her blue eyes slowly moving over the crowd of huddled desperate looking people before her, "Heal as we move," she said loudly. "We have to get going. If you are able bodied enough help your fellows, we must keep moving if we are to outmaneuver the horde."

"Just like them," Varric said quietly enough that only Dorian could hear, watching as the two newcomers moved forward into the throng. "Even when the problem isn't their own…"

* * *

Somehow, even with their collective moral shattered, the Hawkes made them all stand as one. Marian headed the group, trudging through the snow as if she were well rested and leading a company of intensely trained soldiers. Garrett moved amongst the crowd, tending to the wounded, and calmly helping to bury any who were beyond even his help. No one knew who they were, aside from Cullen, Cassandra, Lelianna and Varric. Yet they followed without question. They needed someone to lead them and the Hawkes knew the chaos that could erupt should leadership fail.

For two days and nights they guided the numbed masses through the mountains before finally Marian declared they were safe enough to make camp. People wearily pitched tents and coaxed fires to life, huddling close to one another seeking comfort and warmth, but in the wake of Tara's death and surrounded by unforgiving terrain there was little of both.

The Hawkes moved towards the Inquisition leader's tent, and found the four advisors deep in the midst of an argument. Without a word the siblings slipped away, and instead went in search of Varric. They found their old friend seated in the snow amidst a company of what were clearly mercenaries, one of whom they recognized as the Qunari who had been fighting alongside them back in Haven.

"Varric," Garrett said the dwarf's name quietly. A set of sharp eyes lifted to meet the mage's gaze, warming at the sight of the colossal Ferelden.

"Hey Hawke, Blue, come have a seat. You both look like shit."

"You always know just what to say Varric," Marian retorted as she sank down at the dwarf's right. She reached out an arm and pulled her old friend into a warm hug, kissing the top of his head before releasing him.

"You two know Varric? I remember you from the battle but…I've never seen either of you before…not that I mind. You both fought like hell out there," Iron Bull noted as he beckoned for Dalish to pass the flask of spiced rum to their new companions.

"Thank you, you as well friend," Garrett said as he took a long pull from the skein.

"My name is The Iron Bull, and these are my men. The Chargers, we're a mercenary company that travels all over the world, currently we are at the disposal of the Inquisition…if the Inquisition really still exists at this point."

"Why wouldn't it," Marian asked, as she wiped the remnant liquid from her lips before handing the skein off to the man seated beside her. "Your leaders all still live."

"Yes, but our _real_ leader, the leader and hope of the people…is dead."

"That woman who cut the trebuchet loose," Garrett said sounding distant to which Iron Bull nodded.

"Her name was Tara and she was the true face and voice of the Inquisition…without her I do not know if this will last much longer...me and my boys are pretty impressed with how you two have been leading us thus far though, especially considering that no one knows who you are."

"Perhaps I should introduce my friends," Varric interjected smoothly. "This is Garrett," he said motioning to the big mage at his left, "and his big sister, Marian. I met them both in Kirkwall, we have been friends ever since."

"So you two are from the Free-Marches huh? …either of you the Champion then," Bull asked pointedly. An uncomfortable silence hovered over the trio facing the Chargers for a minute and then Garrett cleared his throat.

"If you are asking if either my sister or I was the one who killed the Qunari Arishok in single combat, the answer is me. I did that, and gained the unfortunate title of Champion from the act."

"Why do you say unfortunate," Bull asked, his tone mild as ever, betraying nothing to anyone regarding his true feelings towards the matter.

"Because I respected the Arishok, and were it not for the fact that my family and my friends were in danger in the midst of the Qunari uprising, I would not have been forced to face him at all."

"Hmm…I like you," Bull said then a smile cracking his battle scared face.

It was then that the group fell into a shocked silence as the sound of Commander Cullen's voice rang out in the immediate distance. "It's her! It's her!" Instantly they were all on their feet racing towards the sound along with the rest of the camp.

They found the Commander stumbling down the mountain side, with a half-frozen unconscious Tara Trevelyan cradled in his arms. The camp ignited into a bustling frenzy of hopeful whispers and tentative warnings against such a miracle. Cullen hastily swept the dead looking woman into a private tent, and Garrett nodded to his sister before moving after him to offer his aide. With a frenzy about to brew Marian then climbed to the top of a nearby crate and loudly insisted that everyone return to their tents, and wait until their leaders gave further information.

Beneath the warrior woman's stern gaze everyone eventually turned to do as she had bid.

"Your friend is quite the commander," Iron Bull said in a low voice to Varric as he and the rest of the Chargers returned to their own space.

"That's Blue…er, Marian, Blue is the nickname I called her in Kirkwall. She's a bit demanding but her heart has always been in the right place…her and her brother have had a hard life…I didn't quite know how much either of them had changed over the past few years…"

"And have they?" It was a pointed question to which Varric had an immediate answer, but the dwarf chewed his words as he usually did before sharing anything.

"They both look a bit more…beaten down than even I remember, and Marian is harder than I've ever seen but I can't blame her. Out of the two of them, she had the hardest time when things went to shit in Kirkwall."

"She's a fair bit slight for that sword she's carrying, but she knows how to use it. That I can respect," Iron Bull mussed before falling silent as the warrior woman made her way back over to Varric's side. She settled in, wordlessly staring at the fire before her for a long while. Then she lifted her hard blue gaze to meet Iron Bull's. "Introduce me to your men Iron Bull. You seem the kind of people I could stand to get used to."


	2. Chapter 2: Mountains Forever

_Demons…everywhere she looked there were demons…Corypheus reached towards her and pain exploded in her left arm. He was going to take the anchor…she couldn't allow it. She struggled, but she found she was unable to move._

 _Fear clutched at Tara's heart._

 _She was going to die. Her friends would be subjected to a world ruled by this raving ancient evil, and Cullen…_

 _Cullen…_

 _She could see his face, the broken man behind his steadfast gaze, forced to kneel at an executioner's block. The edge of an axe testing the back of his neck as some corrupted follower took aim. Behind him, shackled in a line; Cassandra, Leliana…everyone…_

 _The axe fell…_

With a loud gasp Tara awoke and bolted upright, the image of a beheaded Cullen lingering beyond her nightmare. "Are you alright," Mother Giselle asked softly from the young woman's bedside. A set of troubled mossy green eyes met the Chantry Mother's own level gaze briefly before moving out beyond where she lay.

Instantly she found Cullen's form, and for a moment Tara smiled. Then he, Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine all began arguing louder and louder until they were practically shouting in one another's faces. "Maker…how long have they been at it?"

"Hours, a luxury they have thanks to you," Mother Giselle firmly said patting the now frowning woman's hand. "Do not judge them too harshly. We have all been through much…at Haven we saw our leader face our greatest enemy alone, and fall. Now you have returned."

"I didn't die and then come back," Tara said shaking her head, "I fell into an underground tunnel and then walked until I collapsed and was apparently found. That isn't a miracle, that's dumb luck." Angrily the young Ostwick noblewoman tossed aside her blanket and stood up from her sickbed intent on breaking up her arguing friends.

She reached the outer edge of the tent then came to a stop as the giant stranger she had seen during the battle at Haven stepped up to her still shouting advisors. His voice was low and calm as he spoke, laying a hand on Cullen's shoulder as he stepped into the midst of them. "You four are drawing the gazes of everyone in this camp. They need to see you unified, regardless of what is actually going on. So, why don't you all go to your corners and cool off."

Begrudgingly Tara's advisors did as the strange man had gently ordered. Cullen paced, his hands wearing over the hilt of his blade and pulling at his hair. Cassandra was bent unsmiling over a map, though her eyes seemed focused somewhere far away. Together Leliana and Josephine sat by a fire, unspeaking. For his part, the hulking man moved to stand by Cullen his hand again coming to rest on the commander's shoulder, wordlessly offering support.

They would not survive like this.

Suddenly Mother Giselle's voice rose over the tense silence.

"Shadows fall, and hope has fled. Steel your heart. The dawn will come…" Tara blinked as Leliana's voice abruptly sang out to intertwine with the Mother's. Then the voices of those encamped nearest to them swelled pick up the tune. Then Cullen's surprisingly rich baritone lofted its power to the song. More people rose to their feet, their voices adding to the meat of the melody until the sound carried into the night, powerful and full of promise.

The petite rogue watched enrapt. Her skin prickling with energy as the words washed over the snow covered wasteland around them.

Once the echo faded Tara was surprised to find herself faced by Solas. The elven apostate asked her to follow him as he wished to speak with her in private and the two moved off into the night.

From her renewed place beside Varric, Marian watched the slightwoman move away with the odd elf. From the looks of things this Tara held no fear of the man, but for the warrior something about him was not right.

"Who are you glaring at now," Varric asked nudging his friend.

"That elf," Marian said sounding a bit more vehement than she'd really meant to.

"Oi, what's your problem with elves?" The member of the Chargers aptly called Dalish was the one who had asked the question and Marian shot the other woman an annoyed look.

"I don't have a problem with elves Dalish. I do however get a very odd _vibe_ about _him_."

"Oh yeah 'im? He gives everyone the shivers."

"Everyone but Tara that is," Iron Bull chimed in as he pulled out his infamous skein of spiced whiskey and began passing it around. 'To keep out the cold,' he always insisted.

"Your friend Tara doesn't seem to get her feathers ruffled by much," Marian commented as she cracked her neck. "She needs to learn to be more careful. Sometimes it's those closest to you who can deal the deepest blows."

"Spoken like a true pessimist," Varric grumbled with a grin as he took a long drink.

"It's been a few years since I had you around to constantly cheer me up Varric," Marian then teased, a small smile spreading her lips. "I've become old _and_ bitter."

"I was wondering how to bring up all those new lines on your face. If I'd known it would be this easy I would have said something earlier."

"You ass," the warrior woman laughed as she took a long pull from the skein. She then turned to pass the container to the man seated beside her. The young brunette accepted the drink with a muttered thank you his eyes never meeting hers. She found it odd but said nothing. She knew that his name was Krem from hearing other members of the Chargers speaking to him, and that he was Bull's Lieutenant, but not much else. He was a sturdy looking man and whenever she had spotted him during the trek up the mountains he was always assisting another. At times he had even carried some of the weakest refugees. It made Marian's heart twitch in a strange way.

When her own family had been struggling just to make it inside the gates of Kirwall Marian wished such a person had been there. The thought brought a well of sudden tears to her eyes and abruptly the warrior got to her feet and stomped away from the fire.

"What's wrong with her," a man named Stiches asked Varric in a low voice as his eyes followed Marian's retreat.

"She's…the Hawkes are both _complicated_ people. Don't take it personally. She's had a rough life."

"How so," Dalish asked then and silently Varric berated himself for offering up any information about his friends. Thankfully Dorian appeared then distracting everyone as he moved to settle in beside Iron Bull.

"Tis a miserable wasteland out here," the Tevinter native grumbled holding a hand out for the whiskey skein. "Nice singing though and it's good to have Tara back. A series of agreeable nods met the mage's words. "From what I managed to eavesdrop we are going to be moving out in the morning. There is an abandoned fortress a few mountains ahead. That is our destination. Hopefully it will be more defensible than Haven was." Again a chorus of muttered agreements and nods greeted Dorian who shivered and pulled his thin cloak tighter around his shoulders. "And if luck is indeed with us, warm as well."

"Here," a deep voice said. A startled Dorian suddenly found a heavy cloak placed around him as Varric's friend stepped past to sit next to the dwarf across the fire. Even with one arm almost entirely bare the big man didn't so much as flinch in the icy wind.

"Thank you," Dorian said his own body drinking up the warmth still left in the fabric of the other man's cloak.

"You're going to catch your death running around like that Hawke," Varric said as Krem handed the skein back over to the big mage. Garrett took a long drink, though in truth his palate was more suited to wine, then thanked the Charger's lieutenant before handing the skein off again.

"I'll be fine. My armor keeps me plenty warm. Besides, I always have fire with me you know," the second eldest Hawke sibling said with a handsome grin as a small flame burst to life between the fingers of his right hand. "Not to mention I did grow up in Ferelden. We're famous for being a cold wet place."

"And for being big," the words were out of his mouth before Dorian could stop himself. Judging by the startled look on the other man's face, not to mention the collective speculative gazes of the others seated around the fire. That had not been what anyone expected him to say. It took all of the mage's willpower to suppress the semi-embarrassed flush currently attempting to creep up his cheeks.

Then Hawke let out a hearty laugh the sound warming the frigid air a minute degree. "Well thank you for noticing! Being big is one of my finer attributes after all. I make a _fantastic_ shield in a pinch." The rest of the group roared with laughter then and Dorian was all too grateful for the other man's gracious attitude in the wake of his verbal blunder. His eyes met his fellow mage's across the fire and if he had blinked he would have missed the subtle wink sent his way.

As the rest of the group fell into a low chatter Dorian silently surveyed Varric's friend, finally able to appreciate him without demons raining down on their heads. He was indeed a giant and a ruggedly handsome one at that. Even with the thick growth of hair on his face the Tevinter mage could tell that his jaw was as square as his shoulders. His eyes sat deep within his face, giving him a thoughtful almost scholarly look that Dorian found utterly intriguing. When time allowed it he would have to talk with this Hawke, perhaps then he could show his true aptitude for flirting.

* * *

After returning from her talk with Solas, Tara made a pit stop to inform Cassandra of their newly appointed destination before moving off through the camp to talk to the people. She was met with many smiles and people kneeling at her feet, all of whom she quickly insisted not bow to her. She was after all merely a woman. Perhaps one who could seal rifts but even with that she was still just the same as them. Tired, cold, afraid of Corypheus and what he would do if he and his army caught up to them now. After making her rounds Tara felt both morally renewed and physically exhausted so she then made her way back to the tent she had been staying in.

She was nearly there when she spotted Cullen walking towards her. His face was scruffier than she had ever seen it before and his eyes held dark circles beneath them. When he reached her she asked, "Are you alright," just as he asked the same. They both let out small laughs, Cullen reaching a hand behind his head to mess his already strewn hair as he stared down at Tara with a lopsided grin.

"It is good to see you alive and well," she said quietly as a blush warmed her cheeks.

"Me? You were the one out there, alone, facing down Corypheus and his dragon or arch-demon, whatever that thing was! I…I saw you fall…I thought that you had…" The commander's voice hitched and he fell silent then, turning his face away from her.

"Cullen," Tara said gently as she reached up to cup one side of his face with her unmarked hand. "I'm here, I'm alright, and I am very happy to see you are the same." His gloved hand reached up to hold hers, it was then that he noticed her lack of cloak and quickly shrugged off his own, wrapping it around her tightly.

"You need rest and a hot meal."

"The same could be said for many here. I will be alright, truly, you do not need to fuss over me. Just please, get some rest okay. You're no good to me half-awake, I need you."

"I always want to be ready to tend to your needs…"

At that the pair blushed, Cullen more so than her as he realized how his words had sounded. "I mean…what I meant was…"

"Hush," Tara said smiling brightly through her own blush. "I _like_ how it sounded. Though I do know what you really meant. We march to Skyhold tomorrow," she added sounding more authoritative. "Goodnight Cullen. I will seek you out with the sunrise."

"Goodnight, Tara."


	3. Chapter 3: Chasing Tails

Skyhold was a marvelous place. A bit dirty and rundown upon the Inquisition's initial arrival but a few weeks of hard work soon saw it returned to most of its former glory. Tara was now the official leader of the organization and the people seemed more than thrilled to have her at its head. She on the other hand at times found herself longing for the quiet aloneness that came with being inconsequential. Still, she would never betray the trust that had been placed in her.

For now it seemed that things were at a standstill as far as Coreypheus was concerned, so most of Tara's days had been spent running across the countryside attempting to close any remaining rifts that could be found in Ferelden. When at Skyhold she could usually be found in the war room with her advisors, their discussions as of late centering on Orlais and what would have to be done about the Empress.

It all gave her quite the headache and sometimes late at night she could be found pacing the ramparts muttering to herself over the whole thing.

Aside from a brief incident involving Cassandra attempting to strangle Varric over the appearance of the Hawke siblings, her friends all appeared to be settling in just fine. As for the Hawke's, they had proven to be invaluable assets at every turn. Marian had taken to helping Cullen personally train new recruits while Garrett was able to mend almost any injury. The presence of the Champion of Kirkwall was also a huge boost to the moral of the people as well. Though at times Tara worried for Garrett's sister as occasional whispers regarding the warrior woman's former lover at times reverberated through the hold. Not that anyone would dare speak of such things openly, but Tara knew well enough that a misplaced word could cut as deeply as any blade.

It was but one of the many joys of The Game.

On this day Tara had elected to remain in Skyhold to see how all of her friends were doing and take some time to speak with each of her advisors on a more personal level. It was easy for many people to forget that they themselves were in fact human as well, and Tara wanted to be there to let them know that she at least had not let such knowledge slip her mind.

She made her way across the courtyard and into the tavern located across from the Keep, where Bull and his Chargers had made their home. As she reached the door a tall shadow appeared behind her. "Looking for Iron Bull," a rich female voice asked. Tara turned and found herself for the first time face to face with Marian Hawke. The warrior smiled down at her though it did not quite reach her eyes.

"Yes, have you seen him? I know he can usually be found here…though I did not check the training grounds before I came over."

"I believe that he and his lieutenant are working on something in the yard today. Come, I shall accompany you to them." With that said Marian turned on her heel and strode off forcing the shorter woman to sprint a few steps in order to catch up.

"Maker your legs are long," Tara said smiling as her words were met with a short laugh.

"You are just very petite Lady Inquisitor."

"Ugh," Tara made the sound with a decidedly practiced eye-roll. " _Please_ do not call me that. My name is Tara Trevelyan, and though we've never officially met I would prefer that we be friends and you call me just Tara…unless you would rather I refer to you as Serah Hawke as well?" At that the severe looking warrior made a comically disgusted face.

"Ew, no. Let us be informal with one another then, Tara." At that the Inquisitor let out an uncontrollable giggle.

"Very good…so, I must thank you Marian."

"For what," the eldest Hawke said sounding confused and halting her pace as abruptly as she had begun.

"For helping the people here. And for saving my life back in Haven. When Fiona had me down I thought for sure she would have ample opportunity to finish me off before I'd even gotten to my feet. Your interference saved my life as surely as that underground tunnel did."

"I am a frontline fighter Tara, you'll never have to question where I am at in the heat of battle. This Fiona was simply the largest target my brother and I could find…admittedly we also saw Varric with you, so at the risk of sounding harsh, I did not do what I did to save _you_. I did it because of my friend, and because of my own nature."

"You avoid my sincere thanks regardless of your own motives," the slight rogue shot back with a wink before briskly resuming her own walk. Marian had already liked the Inquisitor for what she had appeared to be, but now she found herself growing to like the other woman because of who she was. "Tis fine," Tara shot back over one narrow shoulder. "I shall not bludgeon you with my gratitude."

Marian chuckled before regaining her stride, easily catching up with the shorter woman. They reached the training grounds and found The Iron Bull sparing with his lieutenant while the rest of his men worked either with dummies or in their own respective pairs. "Bull," Marian shouted, causing the massive Qunari to call a halt to the training, "the Inquisitor would like a word."

"My name is Tara, and it _can_ wait if you are busy," the rogue said barely resisting the urge to elbow the woman at her side.

"Nah Boss I got some time, just trying to get Krem here polished up on proper fighting technique when facing a two-handed warrior like myself. Perhaps Marian would not mind taking my place while we have our chat?"

"Not at all," the warrior woman said stepping away and moving towards where Krem stood. He watched her approach for a moment then his eyes fell away as they usually did when she was near. The gesture was harmless but it pricked at Marian's constantly volatile temper. She pulled her blade from the sheath at her back and merely shouted, "Oi," before charging the lieutenant.

Bull watched it happen, placing a gentle hand over Tara's mouth when he saw that she was about to call out a warning. "No, no, Krem needs this," the Qunari chided before removing his hand. To his credit Krem did manage to notice the warrior rushing him just in time to block a hefty blow, though the sudden contact clearly had him off balance. The two exchanged a few more blows before locking swords.

Marian's gaze bore into his as she grunted in exertion. "Finally! I was beginning to wonder if you would ever look at me." The two broke apart and began circling one another. Krem's face was covered in a look of confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since I got here, even when you're sitting right beside me, you never look at me or speak to me. What's your beef huh?" Before the mercenary could reply the auburn haired woman charged again letting loose a flurry of strikes that against most other opponents would have proved fatal. "You're good," she added as they broke apart once more.

"I don't know if I should say thank you or not," Krem chuckled as he rotated his shield arm. "You aren't so bad yourself. Where'd you learn how to wield a sword like that?"

"Practice," Marian answered curtly before shrugging her own shoulders loose, "and you're avoiding my initial question."

 _Of course I am_ , Krem silently thought to himself. He didn't know how this woman had come to the conclusion that he never looked at her. In his mind he tried to conjure a moment when he had _not_ been looking at Marian Hawke since she had first appeared at the Charger's fireside. He had tried to not seem creepy, taking care to look away if she looked at him so as not to be caught. Apparently he had avoided her notice a little _too_ well if she thought him to be standoffish.

"I don't have any problem with you and the last time I checked it wasn't polite to _stare_ , especially at a lady." Marian rushed him again and this time Krem sidestepped her charge, and as he turned back gave her a light tap on the backside with his shield causing her to stumble a few steps. The lanky warrior skidded to a stop then turned to stare at him wide eyed, her mouth hanging slightly agape.

"Did you just…spank me," she demanded as the ghost of a blush crept to the top of her cheeks. Krem's smile stretched from ear to ear, he could not help it. The usually serious woman looked so comically disdainful in that moment.

"You're yelling at me about not giving you any attention, so I thought I would rectify the situation immediately," the lieutenant said slyly. Marian's eyes held a degree of disbelief as she straightened, cocking her head to one side as an uncontrollable smile tilted one corner of her lips.

"You Ser, are shockingly cheeky for one so quiet."

' _And your smile could turn a man's knees to jelly,'_ Krem thought as he attempted to shrug nonchalantly.

As the two continued to spar Bull and Tara watched as they spoke. The Inquisitor smiled her approval over how Krem handled himself against the warrior woman. "You've got quite the Lieutenant Bull, his skill is undeniable but…why did you let Marian almost take his head off?" Iron Bull let out a rude noise as he raised an eyebrow at Tara's words.

"First off I don't believe Marian would actually kill an ally. She has a temper alright and she hits hard, but somewhere in there is a woman who really does care about those she associates with. And second, Krem needs to learn that just because he doesn't want a woman catching him drooling over her, doesn't mean he can just stare at the dirt whenever they're nearby." Tara's eyebrows both shot towards her hairline.

"Krem…has a thing, for Marian?"

"Really Boss," Bull said chuckling, "you'd make a horrible spy. Krem wants her so badly it's hard to watch when she's anywhere near him. He gets all quiet, like his tongue fell out, and he just freezes up. Honestly, it's almost as painful as watching Cullen when you walk by."

"W-what!? What do you mean," Tara asked blushing. She and the Commander were no secret by any means and certainly Cullen had his boyishly unconfident moments, but she'd never thought it was _that_ bad.

"Boss I saw him run into a tree back in Haven. You were walking up some stairs to talk with Dorian. He took one look at your swaying hips, and bam. The Inquisition's greatest military mind, face, first, _in to a tree_." Tara let out an inelegant snort of laughter that erupted into a full blow fit as she envisioned the incident.

"That does sort of sound like something he would do," she admitted once she had caught her breath. "I enjoy that about him though. He doesn't know how to be coy. It's always what you see is what you get with him."

"Hmm. Interesting, I always pegged you as having more of an eye for men who could sweep you off your feet and take charge in the sack." That comment made the small rogue turn bright red.

"Iron Bull!"

"What?"

"That is…how…I don't even know how you came to that conclusion, and now that I mention it I don't think I really _want_ to, but…still…how do you know what Cullen is like in bed?"

"Am I wrong?"

"I _don't know_ ," Tara cried desperately. Then lowered her voice, "He and I have never been intimate like that."

"Really…Interesting," Bull teased eyeing the incredibly red-faced woman beside him.

"It's really not! Oh, stop it," Tara whispered firmly as she slapped the back of her right hand against the Qunari's stomach. "You cannot tease me like that!"

"I can and I will. You're too serious sometimes Boss, it's important to remember that there's more to life out there than all this shit. And just because you're in charge of it doesn't mean that it has to delegate _every_ aspect of your life…I guess what I'm saying is you _really_ need to get laid."

"Okay that's it! Conversation over!"

"By Cullen…"

"Over," Tara insisted, her voice climbing once more to a near shout.

"As a professional I recommend at least twice a day when you can manage it," Iron Bull pressed his smile growing wider by the second.

"Over!"

"And if he needs any tips you can always send him to me. I give _great_ advice."

"Blighted tits this conversation is OVER! Marian!"

Oblivious to the other woman's apparent distress the warrior held up a hand, her gaze never leaving Krem's and curtly called out, "Busy," before resuming her hold on her weapon.

* * *

High above the courtyard, Dorian Pavus stood at a window watching as Garrett Hawke's sister sparred against Iron Bull's lieutenant. It had been nearly comical when he had learned that the auburn haired warrior was actually the hulking mage's older sibling. No one would have ever known it by looking at the two. Then again the Hawke's were not people you could gauge just by _looking_ at them. If they were he would have known everything about Garrett by then, including how the man liked to lay in bed and what kind of clippers he trimmed his beard with.

The big mage often made his way to the library when he wasn't busy healing the sick and wounded. He would sneak in with a bottle of wine and tuck himself away in a secluded corner to read for many hours unless his sister or Varric appeared to fetch him. It just so happened that his hideaway was located directly across from the alcove that Dorian had taken up a semi-permanent residence. This gave the mustached mage a mostly uninhibited line of sight when the plush leather chair across the way was filled with a certain handsome Ferelden.

Whether it was over the edge of his current book, in the reflection of the window's glass, or at times just blatantly, he gawked at the Champion. There were days when he actually meant to engage the other man in conversation but something always seemed to happen to prevent that. Usually it was business, but at times it was Dorian's own newfound uncertainty.

In Tevinter and even in Ferelden the handsome tanned mage had never had a problem flirting with either gender, or taking home any willing man who came his way. But somehow this unassuming giant had rendered him speechless. He tried to figure out what his own hang up could be. It wasn't that Garrett was intimidating per say, no more so than any other man just as handsome. It wasn't that Dorian doubted that the other man would be receptive to at least his flirting; he had already proven that this was not the case. And it certainly wasn't that Dorian hadn't given _how_ he would actually go about introducing himself any thought. This fantasy was usually the last thing the mage envisioned before bed each night. It always came down to the same thing, there was just something very different about Hawke.

"She hasn't injured anyone yet has she?" The unmistakable rumble of Garrett's voice shivered up Dorian's spine and the Tevinter mage whirled to find the colossus standing just behind him. Instantly the Kirkwall Champion took a step back, giving the other man some room as he mumbled, "Sorry…I didn't mean to startle you."

"Not at all my dear man," Dorian said cheerfully. "And no, your sister has thus far evaded loping anyone's limbs off."

"That's actually very good news," Garrett said with a breathless chuckle, one of his big hands moving up to rub at the back of his head. The motion gave the other mage a grand view of the Healer's thickly muscled arm. Meanwhile Hawke was silently kicking himself in his own head.

Why had he approached this mage? He had never spoken with Dorian before, other than their brief exchange in the mountains, and only knew his name from asking Varric. He had noticed the other man watching him as he read a few times and his curiosity had been peaked. Aside from that Garrett really had no business speaking to him.

The big mage cleared his throat and took another small step away, "Yes…well then, sorry to bother you."

"Wait," Dorian said causing Hawke to halt his retreat for the moment. The Tevinter native licked his lips and then set them in what he hoped was a devastatingly handsome smile. "Would you like to get a drink some time?"


	4. Chapter 4: A Little Wine & Lotta Whiskey

"You have a _what_?"

Garrett cleared his throat and shot his sister a look that said, _could you please not shout it to the heavens,_ before answering even more quietly than he had originally stated. "I said I have a date. Tonight actually…which is why I wanted to come here _alone_ ," he added with a pointed look at the pair seated across from him.

Marian and Varric exchanged inquisitive disbelieving looks that slowly bled into a set of fox grins. "Who is it," Garrett's sister pressed. "Have I met him?"

"I don't believe you have met him just yet, I don't know much about him myself Mar." At that the eldest Hawke's smile vanished and she sent her brother a disapproving look.

"Little brother…"

"You know you never did call me that much after I outgrew you until Fenris left me," Garrett grumbled, bristling. "It's an interesting development I've never made a point of but now I am, I don't _appreciate_ it Mar."

"I'm looking out for you Maker take it! You need someone around guarding your heart!" Varric didn't like where this conversation was leading. Both siblings had been pulling long hours over the last few days and tired Hawke's were always pricklier than rested ones. The dwarf could read Garrett's response plainly in his angry muted gaze.

 _'You're one to talk Sis. You're the one who loved a man who stared a war across Thedas,_ but of course he never actually said it. He would never hurt his sister like that. Marian, on the other hand, had never been quite so delicate with her 'tough love' towards her younger siblings.

Past his sister's shoulder the hulking Ferelden saw Dorian enter the tavern, his stormy gaze wandering the room briefly before meeting the big man's and a smile lit his handsome face. "This conversation is finished Mar," Garrett said firmly as he rose from his chair and strode towards the other mage. Marian instantly whirled in her chair and once she spotted the dark haired man her brother was walking towards, she glared with enough intensity to kill.

"Easy Blue," Varric said settling a hand on his friend's arm, patting more and more firmly until she finally turned back. "Your brother deserves a chance to find happiness on his own terms. Maker knows you _both_ deserve it."

"He is far too flippant with his heart," the warrior snapped.

"Hey now, is that you speaking for him, or for yourself?" It was a gamble speaking so plainly regarding Anders and the dwarf held his breath. Either he was about to be thrown through the nearest wall or the Marian he had become fast friends with would remember that he too only wanted what was best for both her and her brother.

"Both," the auburn haired woman sighed in a defeated tone that sounded more like a question than a solid response. Varric had to refrain from releasing his own audible sigh. He placed his hand over Marian's as she rubbed her opposing hand over her face. "I just don't want any repeat performances you know?"

"I know, and don't worry. We'll keep an eye out for your brother but we don't want to keep him from finding someone new now do we?"

"No…you're right…but seriously, do you know that guy. I've seen him around but don't know who he is?"

"His name is Dorian…" Varric began, hoping that he could lay a few of Marian's worries to rest with a bit of tactfully put information.

* * *

"Um I do believe your sister just tried to murder me." So much for witty and tactfully delicious hellos, Dorian thought to himself as he took in the shocked look on Garret Hawke's face. The big mage turned his head back over his shoulder but his sister's gaze was already removed to the dwarf at her side. A pity, he'd been practicing his own _I set you ablaze_ glare for weeks, yet it always seemed to land on his elder sibling's back. Maddening.

"Don't mind her, she's just…"

"Protective?" The Tevinter native offered tentatively his own gaze holding a degree of wariness in the wake of the other man's unspoken irritation.

"I was going to say overly aggressive but your word sounds much nicer," the big mage said with a tight smile.

"Should I…"

"Please, don't even start in on how you play into my sister's foul temper. After Kirkwall erupted into war she somehow managed to get her head stuck in her ass and it's been like this ever since. It isn't you specifically, please let me apologize and let us have a pleasant evening?" If he hadn't been staring Garrett in the eyes Dorian might have still excused himself but there was something so incredibly…hopeful in the big man's gaze that he simply couldn't leave.

"Alright, but if she attacks me I'm freezing her then making a hasty getaway to my homeland before anyone even thinks of reversing the spell." At that Garrett chuckled then motioned for Dorian to lead the way to their table.

The mage had taken the opportunity to use his connection to the Inquisitor to procure a more private table on the second level of tavern for this occasion. Considering the hostile nature of his date's sibling who was also present, Dorian silently patted himself on the back at his preparedness. The two men settled in and a waiter appeared to take their orders.

"I'll have wine, a rose moscato please," Garrett said.

"I too shall have some wine, a cabernet if you please," Dorian said handing the waitress her payment and tip upfront. The young elven woman bobbed and quickly retrieved their drinks then left the two men to their own devices. For a few minutes they simply watched one another, taking a sip here and there as each attempted to find some form of suitable conversation.

"So you would run to your homeland eh," the Champion said awkwardly. "Where uh is home exactly? I've noticed your accent but I have no idea what region it is endemic to."

' _Ah of course he would ask the unknowingly loaded question first',_ Dorian thought as he took a bracingly larger gulp of his beverage. "I am from Tevinter," he stated unapologetically, letting his answer sink in for a minute before continuing. "Although I admittedly do not agree with much of what goes on in my homeland or many of the other residents found there. Hence why I am here, I am a proud pariah of the Empire. Disowned by my family over a number of differences, and displaced by an unwillingness to simply bow to the current order there. So there's that."

Hawke blinked. "I can honestly say I've only ever met one other citizen from the Imperium," he said slowly. "I should add that you do not remind me of them in the least."

"I shall take that as a compliment…though, and I'm sure you've already heard rumors of this…I should mention that while I do not agree with most of the practice. I do know how to use blood magic." Dorian had no idea what had possessed him to be so bluntly forthcoming with the other mage, but there it was all on the table for judgement and not even one full glass of wine to soften the blow. ' _Well done Pavus',_ he mentally berated himself. Again the big man was left blinking in the wake of Dorian's honesty.

"You remind me someone I once knew…my sister would not be as receptive to such knowledge, but I have been studying the matter on my own time and really…it has some good points. Not to say I myself would ever invest my talents into such a practice but I can respect a man who owns his abilities."

 _'I think that I may be in love with how logical you are,'_ Dorian thought silently as he took another drink. "You're incredibly grounded in that opinion. Especially considering everything you went through in Kirkwall…uh, Varric may have mentioned a tale or two about you and your sister before you ever arrived."

"Not to mention that those considered to have been part of the start of this whole mess is hardly a well-kept secret," Garrett added with a laugh.

"Indeed…so now it is my turn to ask a question?" The big man nodded and Dorian took a moment to carefully consider what said inquiry might be. "Are you…involved with anyone currently…I know that isn't much of a question considering that you and I are on a 'date' but…here's the thing. I have been attempting to figure out a way to start up a conversation with you ever since you put that cloak of yours on my shoulders…"

 _'Keep going Pavus, your grave hasn't quite peeked out on the other side of the earth just yet'._

"I don't usually have this issue of timid-ness but something about you screams unattainable? No that's not quite it, unavailable, would be a more appropriate term."

"You're very intuitive and forthcoming, are you perhaps related to an elf named Zevran?"

"What an odd question."

 _'There you go Garrett, work that charm! You complete, idiot.'_

"I'm sorry. It is an odd question…and an invalid one, you just really _do_ remind me of an elf I've met before…in answer to your question, I was very seriously involved with someone once…we have since parted ways. In all honesty the break-up was not my choice I might add. He left me…for a third and final time."

 _'Heh, well at least you aren't barking up a completely differently bent tree. Well done, Dorian. Now see if he has any other deep wounds you can pour salt in, that's always a guaranteed clothing shedder.'_

"Listen Dorian…this is beyond awkward for me. I'm way out of practice with anything remotely like this, but I am not taken or anything. Hesitant and a bit nervous, definitely, but if you can handle that I'm game."

"So, should we just skip right to the glorious inevitable naked rendezvous," the Tevinter mage asked in a lighthearted tone, a smile spreading his lips.

"By all means clear the table! I haven't been touched in years," Garrett said loudly abruptly standing up and acting as if he were about to sweep the table's contents to the floor. He waggled an eyebrow at the other mage causing him to laugh heartily and drawing a few curious gazes from other nearby patrons. "On second thought perhaps we should wait just a bit," the big man then added with a wink, "I'm not too keen on my sister seeing my small bits."

"Oh my dear, if the rest of you is any indication your bits are anything but small." At that Garrett blushed and resumed his seat clearing his throat and looking away, though he could not quite hide his smile.

"Maybe if you play your cards right you'll find out one day," Garrett said attempting to sound coy.

Finally on the offensive side of the playful banter Dorian raised his hand and motioned to a nearby waitress. "Another round please dear! As fast as you can carry it, and leave the bottles."

* * *

She was drinking strong whiskey, she always did.

The red hued golden brown liquid passing between her ripe lips in waves, tongue sliding against the seam to catch every last drop, it was intoxicating just to watch. She still wore her armor and that was a shame. What did she look like beneath Krem wondered as he took a drink of his ale eyes still quietly fixated on Marian Hawke.

Varric was with her, which was good. Even here in the Herald's Rest a man could drink too much and press upon a woman…not that the fierce warrior wouldn't have something to say, or do about it. Sometimes he allowed himself to fantasize what he would do if someone were to try. He would never want her hurt or afraid of course, but to be her hero…His fists laying waste to some drunken sod. Her eyes shining as her lips parted in a small awed gasp. _Thank you_ , she would say, her words causing those lips to mimic the shape of the kiss they would share later…yes, Marian Hawke was a fine distraction indeed.

"Go ask her to sit with us."

Iron Bull's voice made Krem nearly leap out of his own skin, an action that caused the big Qunari to laugh loudly. "Krem de la Crème, you need to relax. She's human, she bleeds. She's no untouchable goddess. Andraste's tits I saw you _spank_ her while you two were sparring and she didn't slice you in half…that's a good sign! It's practically her version of tossing out the welcome mat!"

"Just because she didn' finish me off the other night doesn't mean she's game for anythin' Chief…," Krem mumbled into his mostly empty mug.

"But it does mean she probably won't say no if you invite her and Varric over to share some company while they drink." He had a point, sod it, the Qunari always did. Krem settled into a silence as he weighed the dangers of inviting Marian Hawke to drink with him and the Chargers. He took too long and without warning Iron Bull shouted out, "Hey! Marian, Varric, come sit with me and my boys!"

Marian turned in her seat her eyes meeting Krem's stare, which he quickly diverted to the bottom of his tankard.

"Why the hell should I drag my arse all the way across this bar just to sit with you louts," the warrior challenged even as she and the dwarf moved from their seats.

"Because my Company possesses the only people in this tavern who can match you drink for drink. And we're damned good at singing!" The auburn haired woman laughed at that, her smile dazzling. Krem decided he needed a new drink and stood up, intent of moving off to the bar.

"Where do you think you're going Cremisius," a sultry voice asked as a hand came to fist itself in the side of his shirt halting his retreat.

"I'm out o' ale," he said lamely, his gaze briefly meeting Marian's once more. She snorted at him and released her hold.

"A man who doesn't drink whiskey, Bull what kind of operation are you running here?" That comment set Krem's ears ablaze.

"I can hold my drink. I just don' always like getting so drunk I can't see straight, unlike some," he added with a pointed look at his commander.

"Well my cup is also empty. Perhaps you would accompany me to the bar? You know, let me lean on you since I can't see straight and all?" As Marian feigned a hefty staggering swoon into Krem's side, he instantly rethought his stance on her armor. Just the smell of her brought his blood to boiling. He couldn't have imagined staying upright had she pressed her unarmored curves against him.

Tentatively Krem circled an arm around Marian's waist and used his shoulder to brace her back into a slumped, but standing position. "If you're really that bad you should take a seat and I'll bring you a drink."

"Oh, would you?" She asked it sarcastically but the way she bat her eyelashes at him made Krem's heart pick up its speed. He immediately snatched her cup from her hand and strode away before she could even blink.

"Well," Marian said with a wide grin, "now that's what I call service."

The tall warrior and her dwarven companion both settled into their new seats, nodding and laughing their greetings to the rest of Bull's company. Listening as Varric launched into one of his famed stories Marian Hawke cast her gaze over her shoulder. It fell upon Krem's back as he bent over the low counter across the room trying to get the bartender's attention. He was not wearing his armor this night, which intrigued her. It wasn't often that any of Bull's Chargers could be found without either their armor or their weapons, and Marian found the lieutenant's more casual side to be unexpectedly captivating.

"Are you ogling my man," The Iron Bull teased as one of his massive shoulders bumped against Marian's own squared one. She cast the Qunari a look and rolled her eyes.

"I do not ogle anyone Bull. I have more important things on my mind than a good romp these days. Like a good fight, or how sharp my blade with be after I put it to the stone come tomorrow."

"That's unfortunate," Bull said with a shrug. "I think that you would find a warm body in your bed far better company than steel."

"Aren't you the one I heard explicitly professing the more pointed benefits of a blade possessing blood grooves to the Inquisitor the other day," Marian shot back.

"That he did," a feminine voice said drawing the group's collective glances. Tara Trevelyan stood over the table, or would have from her place at the head of the table had she possessed any height. Even seated, Iron Bull towered over the Inquisition leader.

"Boss," the Qunari rumbled pleasantly. "Come have a seat and a drink! Krem, bring another ale for the Inquisitor!"

"Actually I was just…" Before Tara could truly object Marian herself grabbed ahold of the petite woman's arm and all but threw her into the chair shoved forward by Rocky, another of Bull's associates.

"Don't you dare bring business _here_ at this hour," the warrior said in a tone that was somehow both threatening and joking. "I'm already dealing with my brother being elsewhere in this establishment on a date…a _date_ Tara, the first honest interlude with another human being he has been a part of in years. Not even _you_ shall distract me from this."

"Really," Tara asked curiously, all thoughts of propriety and business momentarily forgotten. She liked Garrett, genuinely likedthe second eldest Hawke. He was the sort of man the world needed, the kind of soul she also saw in Cullen and that she hoped resided in her. Someone full of goodwill and joy despite all that was happening in the world.

She hoped that he had found someone fit to match.


	5. Chapter 5: Drunken Personalities

Garrett did not know if it was the wine, the good conversation, or the devilishly delicious natural slant of Dorian's lips but Maker did he want to kiss the other mage. The two had settled into discussing the differences in their native homelands for the past few hours, each of them quietly delighted to be in the company of another knowledgeable and non-judgmental soul. And somewhere between the mutually disliked topic of slavery and the more tentative one of blood magic, the second eldest Hawke had drifted from pointed dialogue to staring at the other man's moustache shadowed mouth.

Back when he had met Fenris, Hawke had been charismatic but shy and inept when it came to matters of the heart and the body. His incompetence had not exactly been bolstered by his skittish lover either, but now, sitting in the Herald's Rest with this practical stranger…Garrett wondered blearily in his head what would happen if he were bold?

Not his forte by any means. The battering ram of the family had always been almost exclusively a title for Marian but he was no longer a starry eyed virgin pining away at a seemingly unattainable mark.

Maker take it, he was so tired of walking on eggshells and waiting in tense silence to be _allowed_ to feel or act upon his own feelings. He was a man who had defeated a Qunari Arishok in single combat, faced down demons the likes of which others could only dream and he had waited long enough for permission to simply be the man who resided behind witty quips.

"Garrett?"

"Hmm," the big mage blinked and flushed slightly as he realized he had been lost in his thoughts and completely checked out from the actual conversation he had been having with the man across the table. Dorian smiled as he chuckled warmly.

"I just asked you what color your undergarments were," the cheeky Tevinter said sarcastically with a wink.

"Oh! Well that's an easy answer, I'm not wearing any," the hulking mage threw back with a devastating grin of his own. The fruits of his labor were immediate in the answering blush that covered Dorian's high cheekbones. "I rarely do," Hawke added with a wink.

"Fasta vass," the other man whispered as he ran a hand back through his hair. "I barely know you and here I am, tongue tied at the mere insinuation of you without an article of clothing…I am not usually so easily distracted I'll have you know."

"And I'll have you know that I am not typically so readily flirtatious. Caution is more honest to my nature but you…" Garrett fell silent. How did one tell a relative stranger that they made them feel more comfortable in one conversation than a former lover had managed in over a decade of awkward courtship?

"I hope that I do not sound too odd in saying this," Dorian then stated quietly, his warm brown eyes fixated momentarily on the rim of his glass, "but I find you to be...fine company indeed." ' _Understatement of the century'_ the Tevinter then silently added as his gaze rose to meet Garrett's. There was _something_ already between them that Dorian at least found he could neither deny nor put to words. It terrified him as much as it excited him.

"I also find you to be quite exquisite company," Hawke said as his sent the other man a small smile in return. The Tevinter matched his smile, a laughing glint forming in his eyes.

"At least enough that you felt just fine staying here with me after the closing hour," he said then with a wink. At that Garrett blinked and cast his own gaze out around the second floor of the tavern only to find it empty, and the moon hanging high in the sky beyond one of the nearby windows.

"Should we go," the big man asked abruptly standing from his chair, feeling impolite towards the tavern's employees and his date all in one moment.

"If you wish to," Dorian said as he too slowly got to his feet, casting a glance to the floor below. "Though I doubt that anyone working here is going to mind our staying, the Inquisitor seems to also still be in the vicinity, along with your sister and the ever present Chargers."

"Oh," the big man said moving to stand a bit closer to the railing to peer down at the lower floor, consequently also drawing himself closer to the other mage. Their renewed proximity allowed Dorian to inhale the deep musky male scent that seemed to cling to the second eldest Hawke, it made him admittedly a bit heady. There was something clear cut about the smell. Like the sheer rock of the side of a cliff face with just a hint of evergreen foliage clinging to its surface.

Abruptly the big man turned to face Dorian and the now small space between them sizzled with energy. Garrett licked his lips, "I do not wish to see our night end just yet," he admitted softly.

"Nor do I," the Tevinter native concurred. "We could always join the others downstairs for a bit? I am going to eventually run into your sister and have to introduce myself after all. I might as well do so readily. I'll not allow her to think me a coward on top of my being _Tevinter_."

"Alright," Garrett said, hoping he sounded more excited about the ensuing meeting than he really felt.

The two men descended the stairs, their respective wine bottles and glasses dangling carelessly from their hands as they approached the full table. Varric and Iron Bull saw them coming and waved in greeting. Marian on the other hand was too preoccupied arm wrestling Rocky to note her brother's entrance. Dorian watched somewhat enthralled as the warrior woman let out a fearsome shout as she slammed the thick muscled dwarf's hand back down onto the tabletop. Cheers sounded around the table as Marian stood, beating her chest before raising a fist in the air in triumph.

Skinner leapt up and tossed the contents of her mug over the celebrating warrior, who without missing a beat then ripped her now soaked chest plate free and pointed at the other woman. "You want ta' go Skinner? Let's do it! Put up your coin boys, I could always use more in my purse!" Though she shouted loud enough to rattle the rafters Marian's tone was light hearted and friendly. Further proof was provided when she slapped hands with the now laughing elven woman before reclaiming her seat.

"Maker Marian," the Inquisitor said with a flushed laugh, "you've got a sound arm that's for sure! Perhaps I should replace Iron Bull with you when I go out on rift patrols?"

"Hey now Boss, let's not get carried away," Bull said with a chuckle.

"My sister is strong, but she is still no Qunari Inquisitor." Tara turned in her chair and welcomed both mages with a wide warm smile.

"Garrett! Dorian," she cried as she stood up and rushed to hug the Tevinter. "How was your date," she asked without reserve, positively titillated to discover that Garrett's mystery man was one of her closest companions.

"Oh yes," Marian then added, all but throwing her own chair aside as she too gained her feet. "That." The tall woman strode over to stand before Dorian. Her eyes were no longer laughing and her lips pressed into a firm line. Facing her was like facing a statue of some long-ago female general. Her eyes bore into his, unamused and definitely unimpressed. She stuck out her hand towards him and dryly stated, "Marian Hawke, Garrett's big sister, and the one you'll find yourself answering to if you do _anything_ to…"

"Yes, yes, you'll tear his man-bits off an' all that, your love for your brother is certainly the most adorable thing I've ever seen," Tara interjected as she rolled her eyes and struck a hand towards the now slightly amused Tevinter. "Marian this is _my_ close _friend_ Dorian Pavus."

Dorian did not know if he should kiss the Inquisitor and profess his gratitude, or use her as a scapegoat so he could hastily exit before Garrett's sister ripped him inside out with her bare hands.

"Hm," the warrior huffed, "a friend of Tara's? Alright then, it is…nice to meet you Pavus."

"Please, my dear lady, if we are to become acquainted, call me Dorian?"

"Very well…you like wine Dorian," Marian then asked eyeing the bottle in his hand with a form of contempt that he could not comprehend. Before he could answer the warrior shot her brother a look then motioned for them all to rejoin the table.

Two more chairs were pulled up and soon everyone was back to chatting and clanking mugs over old war stories. Dorian had never been part of the Charger's late night gatherings, though he had found them to be the most excepting of him thus far in the Inquisition. He was sorry that this was the case, the group was in fact a very fun bunch to get drunk with, the later part of the interlude occurring much more quickly than he'd anticipated.

At some point his wine was replaced with a much stronger spiced whiskey, whether it had been the courtesy of Garrett's sister or Iron Bull he could not say, but by the time the next hour rolled past the Tevinter was well and drunk. Seated at his right Garrett Hawke had also run out of wine and turned to what smelled like sweet rum. The big man rumbled with shameless laughter the timbre of which shook the walls when it synchronized with Iron Bull's, reverberating pleasantly in Dorian's own chest.

* * *

By four in the morning everyone was good, drunk and tired. They all said their goodbyes and awkwardly shuffled off to their respective sleeping arrangements. When Dorian stood to go he found the world tilting beneath his feet. A strong arm wrapped around his waist to keep him upright and when he looked up he found Garrett smiling down at him. "I can assist you to your rooms," the big man slurred warmly.

"What about your sister," the Tevinter asked, his eyes wandering over to where Marian stood reclaiming her armor.

"Varric, you'll see to my sister," Garrett then asked the dwarven man. Varric shrugged at his old friend with an apologetic look on his face as he assisted the half-awake Inquisitor to her feet.

"I'm sorry Hawke but someone needs to see to Tara and she came here alone."

"I can see to her," a familiar voice said softly. The big mage turned his gaze over to find Iron Bull's Lieutenant behind him.

"I'd appreciate that Krem," Garrett said with a thankful nod. With an answering nod Cremisius sidestepped the two mages and made his way over to Marian. The tall woman had just pulled her breastplate back into order when he appeared at her side.

"Oh! Hey Krem," Marian said her voice a touch more airy than it normally was. She smiled at him. It was a real smile, one without any hint of the warrior's usual vinegar in her gaze.

"I ca'…I can walk you back to your room," he told her silently thanking the Maker that his face was already red from the alcohol he had consumed.

"That's okay…you sleep here…I'd feel awful if you walked me to the Keep then had to turn around and come all the way back here…"

"Really," Krem said stepping up to the tall woman's side and placing a hand at her waist before he could stop himself, "it's no trouble Marian."

"I can jus' walk back with my brother…oh…" The eldest Hawke sought out her brother and found his familiar form just as he passed through the door of the tavern with Dorian slumped against his side. Krem worried for a moment that the warrior woman was going to go after the two men, but something unexpectedly softened in her gaze and a tentative smile brought up one corner of her mouth. "Maybe…maybe you could walk with me," she said then surprising the Lieutenant. Cremisius reached out to place a steadying hand at the small of the warrior woman's waist and gently ushered her towards the door.

* * *

"Which room is yours?" Dorian had to think quite a lot harder about Garrett's question than he'd anticipated.

"It is located just off the library…but kaffas that is a lot of stairs to manage at the present." At that the big mage chuckled.

"Then I suppose you'll just have to sleep with me," the Ferelden native rumbled as he steered his fellow mage towards another door. The Tevinter mage blushed uncertain what to make of the other man's offer. They'd only just met after all!

Not that he was unaccustomed to a brief tumble, but he had rather hoped to at least talk to Garrett Hawke more than just one night.

The former Champion sensed something shift in the man at his side and cast Dorian a quick glance. The handsome man's face had fallen into a look of troubled uncertainty and Garrett wondered as to why. Then it struck him that the other mage might be thinking that he meant to have a quick tryst with him. Just outside his bedroom door Garrett paused and abruptly moved the shorter man around so that Dorian was trapped between the wall and his body.

"Dorian?"

"Yes, Garrett?" The big mage had a whole speech prepared about how one-night-stands were not something he engaged in. But somehow that was forgotten when he looked down into the other man's eyes and saw the same braced tenderness he himself had often felt.

Large calloused hands settled on either side of Dorian's face, holding him still as Garrett's lips descended onto his own. The kiss was soft and only curiously plying. It was a drastic shift from the desperate heated sloppy affairs that the Tevinter was used to and he shuddered in reaction to it. In his drunken state Dorian was more inclined to call it tender in its execution. The kind of kiss one would imagine two long time lovers sharing at the end of the day. It stole his breath and left him feeling dizzy when the larger man pulled away.

"I would carry you up the stairs like the gentleman I promise you I am, but I fear that I would drop you in my current addled state…and I would rather have a shot at another date than have that happen. So, why don't you come inside and share my bed tonight? And just to be clear Dorian I do not mean that as an invitation to have…well, to be intimate with one another. I want to get to know you better before that happens… _if_ that happens I meant! I did not mean to imply that I think you're a sure thing or that I am one…" The big mage let out a loud sigh and shook his head at himself. "Would you like to sleep with me tonight Dorian? My bed is big and while I'll warn you I am a voracious cuddler I'm not going to try anything with you past that. I promise."

At that Dorian's eyes widened, and then a smile lit his face. The hands that had come to rest lightly on Garrett's waist clenched slightly as the shorter mage nodded. "I would like that." The hulking Ferelden moved to unlock the door and let his Tevinter counterpart enter before following and shutting the door tightly behind them.

The big mage waved a hand out before him as he strode forward, causing the lamps in the room to flare to life along with the fireplace located along the far wall. Dorian glanced around the room his gaze coming to rest on the rather large bed seated beneath a set of high windows. Garrett had moved to stand at the foot of the huge piece of furniture and cast an inquisitive glance back over one thick shoulder.

"Um…do you need anything to sleep in?"

Dorian chuckled and rubbed at the back of his head, "I would gladly take a pair of fresh pants…though I'll admit that not only do I usually sleep in the nude and I find myself in doubt that your clothing will fit me." Garrett let out an answering chuckle as he stripped off his shirt.

"I too generally sleep in the nude. However, I imagine it would be a tad bit harder to keep my word about 'just sleeping' if we were to both wind up naked in my bed while this intoxicated. If you'd be more comfortable without any clothes feel free. I on the other hand am going to find a pair of loose pants." With that the big man walked to a nearby dresser and began rummaging around leaving Dorian to shed his own outer layers of clothing in relative privacy.

"Pants," the big man asked with a raised eyebrow as he held up a pair of cotton drawers that were fairly snug on him.

"Might as well try them, I do not wish to tempt you too rigorously," the Tevinter said with a wink as he stood shamelessly in his smallclothes before Garrett. The hulking mage tossed the set of pants to the other man, allowing his blue gaze to linger appreciatively on the other man's mostly exposed body.

"Please, go easy on me Dorian," Garrett said with as he turned back to fetch himself a set of pants. As the Tevinter mage pulled on the only slightly too large garment he suddenly noted that Garrett was stripping out of his own pants. Dorian could not help but stare, catching a brief glimpse of some very tempting flesh before the Ferelden pulled on his fresh set of drawers.

Then the Champion turned and motioned to the bed, "Shall we?" Both men moved to climb beneath the covers of the bed and shifted about until each had settled into the mass of pillows Garrett kept against his headboard. After a few minutes had passed in a somewhat awkward silence the big mage moved his hand and snuffed out all but the light of the merrily crackling fire. Dorian had no idea what to do then. He had never shared a bed with a man who had not first had him face down in the bedspread. The thought of Garrett's earlier promise of snuggling wove its way through the Tevinter man's still alcohol fuzzed head and shyly Dorian turned his head to face the other man.

"I thought you said you were a _voracious_ cuddler," he teased softly, only able to see half of the other mage's face in the overhead beam of moonlight. A glint of a smile shot out from the shadow passing over Garrett's face as the big man turned over onto his side. He looped an arm around Dorian's waist and hauled the shorter mage up against his chest, nuzzling his somewhat beard roughened face into the crook of the other mage's neck

"I didn't want to force you…" the big man said softly against Dorian's ear, and the shorter man shivered at his words. Garrett then placed a gentle kiss against the other man's neck before whispering, "Sleep well Dorian."


	6. Chapter 6: Slow Going and Surprises

' _Andraste's frilly white knickers, this cannot be happening to me.'_

But it was.

And there wasn't a damned thing that Marian could do about it.

She knew that she was going to black out. The swaying earth beneath her feet, the rising need to expel the potent contents of her stomach, the thoughts…the picking, biting thoughts she could no longer suppress, all told her that the inky darkness was nearing.

Krem had no notice of the impending departure of his walking companion's consciousness. Marian merely gave out a small moan then collapsed against his side in a slack heap. The Tevinter man hefted the tall warrior around so that he held her bridal style in his arms, her face lulling against his chest. "Hey, Marian," he said softly attempting to shake the auburn haired woman awake. Her breath came out in a deep sigh, warming his skin through the fabric of his shirt and Krem smiled.

The usually hard faced warrior looked down right adorable in her current state. Lips slightly parted, a flushed line coaxing across the bridge of her nose, stripes of wild hair freed from her braid laid over her face. The iron willed warrior kept his stride, even as he gazed unhurriedly at Marian's sleeping visage. He carried her up the steps to the Keep and down one of the long corridors leading to the back of the stony building.

He noted that Garrett's door was closed, though the faint echo of a fire flickering from within indicated that the big mage had indeed made it safely back to his own quarters. Satisfied, Krem then turned to enter Marian's chambers across the hall. He made his way by moonlight to the woman's large bed seated amongst a deep blue set of shades and laid her down across its surface. The Lieutenant then took a moment to weigh the dangers of relieving Marian Hawke of her armor. Surely it would not bode well for her to sleep in it all night if there was no need.

 _'Sod it,'_ Krem finally decided as he shifted down to remove the warrior's only half buckled breast plate. He had removed everything but her left gauntlet, setting the pieces one by one far enough away that she would not trip on them when she first rose but close enough that if she needed to reclaim them in haste she could do so. Krem was sitting on the edge of the bed, his thigh at her hip. As he moved to pull the gauntlet free Marian suddenly lurched upwards in her bed, her fingers slipped free of their metal casing then quickly latched onto the side of the surprised man's loose shirt.

"Mmm…Anders...?" The name was one that Cremisius knew.

Maker, the majority of Thedas did!

The man who had blown up the Chantry in Kirkwall, the mage who had begun the war across the world…and apparently the man whom Marian Hawke called out to in the dark. The warrior leaned over until her face pressed against Krem's shoulder, nuzzling against the fabric like a contented cat. "Where have you been…I was…missing you…"

Her words, though heavily slurred, made the Lieutenant's heart twist painfully in his chest. He had known that the Hawke siblings had come from Kirkwall, learned that Garrett was the city's former Champion but he had never considered that the two had been so closely related to the events that transpired there. And apparently Marian had been quite close.

"No…that's…r-wrong…you're dead, so who…" The warrior sat up a bit, her unclear eyes focusing momentarily on the Tevinter man's face. A bare hand lifted to ghost along the side of Krem's face and Marian sent him a heartbreaking smile. "Ah…s-sorry Cremissssus…" she frowned at herself before stating clearly, "Cremisius."

"Yes Marian," the short haired warrior said gently as he wound a loose arm around the woman's waist to help her remain upright.

"I'm…I'm sorry…I…"

The light brown haired man lifted his other hand to place a finger against Marian's lips as he gently shushed her. "It's alright Marian. You don't need to apologize to me." Instantly the normally stony woman's eyes filled with tears and she lurched her face away to hide her weakness.

"I'm such a fucking fool…" she muttered then, her slim but square shoulders heaved in a jolting series of unheard sobs. "You should go. I don't want you, or anyone to see me like this…Maker why'd I have to…have to get so drunk!"

"See you like what," Krem responded as he forced the warrior back to face him. He stared into her eyes for a long moment then shook his head a sad smile of his own crossing his lips. "See you human? You're allowed your heartache just like the rest of us Marian. I shall not judge you for it. You need not worry with me."

Something broke inside Marian, she felt it. It was as if the half-blurred Tevinter before her had taken a battering ram to the last of her fragile defenses and broken them down in one fateful crash. All of the pain. All of the longing and hopeless silent screams she had been swallowing for the last few years welled up within her until she burst with the pain.

Ashamed.

Ashamed that she was drunk, ashamed that she was crying on a nearly complete stranger, ashamed that she still could not rend Anders from her thoughts, and ashamed that she yearned to be comforted in her self-made misery. Marian sank her face forward to rest against Krem's collarbone and sobbed.

"Have you ever wanted something so badly…so badly Krem…but not badly enough that you would change who _you_ are," the warrior whispered suddenly, then she was gone again, spiraling down into the utter oblivion that only drink had been able to provide her since her lover's passing.

 _'Yes'_ the Tevinter man thought as he moved so that he sat upright beside Marian in her bed. The warrior turned over to snuggle against him in her sleep and he let her stay there.

It was a hard thing to face ones demons alone.

* * *

The sun rose warm and bright the next morning. Garrett awoke once to the sound of trumpets announcing the arrival of someone at the gates. Briefly he wondered who it could be, then the still sleeping man beside him let out a small sigh and the big man shrugged off the thought all together.

This was not Kirkwall. He was not the one everyone came running to with their problems in Skyhold. For a little while at least, here, he was simply Hawke. The big mage cuddled back up against Dorian, inhaling the other man's scent as he lulled back into the cusp of consciousness.

Still somewhat awake, Garrett heard when a set of heavy footsteps made their way down the hall just beyond the door to his chambers. Sunlight now streamed into his room, indicating that it was quite late in the morning. The big man moved to sit up and that was when all hell broke loose.

The door to his room was kicked open a familiar figure filling the now open doorway as a rich baritone voice shouted loudly, "Cousin! What in the Maker's name are you still doing in bed this late in the morning? Oh…" Aiden Amell's lips pulled upwards into a devilish smile as Dorian bolted upright looking around bewildered. "Hey…that's not Fe…"

"Get the hell out!" Garrett's answering bellow was bolstered by the fireball he shot at his cousin which blew the arcane-warrior back off of his feet and sent him crashing through Marian's door across the hall.

"Bloody...who was that," Dorian asked, turning to pin Garrett with a wide eyed gaze. The big man was already out of bed and half-way into his clothing when suddenly Marian's equally enraged shouted echoed out.

"AIDEN! …Maker! Krem? What in the nug-shit-soaked-hell is going on?"

"Marian good to see you my dearest cousin! And your…friend, Krem is it? Nice to meet you too!"

With Dorian close behind Garrett barged into his sister's chambers to find Marian kneeling over their older cousin with a sever frown on her face. Krem stood not far behind, watching uncertainly with his sword in hand.

"What's happened," another voice yelled as Tara came charging in. The Inquisition leader skidded to a stop then sighed. "Remember last night when I told you I had something _important_ to tell you? It was that your cousin was coming. Surprise!"

"Thank you Inquisitor, that's all well and good but Marian could you let me up now please?" The warrior woman stood back and Garrett helped to heft his equally tall cousin back onto his feet. Aiden rolled his neck and for a moment the cousins all took a moment to survey one another.

The Hawke's had not seen their older cousin since his visit with the royal couple to Kirkwall years ago. He looked well enough. The once thickly muscled man had grown somewhat leaner in his build and his hair held a touch of grey along the sides. His eyes however were as black and blazing with life as always. He smiled widely at his newfound audience, "I am glad to see you both well…very well," he added with a wink in Garrett's direction earning him an eye roll from his younger cousin.

"Why are you here," Marian asked as she rubbed a hand over her bloodshot eyes and moved away to begin strapping on her armor.

"I am here to see what kind of trouble my little cousins are in of course," Adien emphatically claimed. After a twin set of skeptical glares knifed into him the big man then chuckled, "Okay fine, I am now the official ambassador of the Ferelden royal family. Very stuffy, are you both satisfied?"

"But why have you come here," Garrett hedged, knowing that Aiden did not leave his adoptive sister's side lightly.

"Honestly, there is some interesting trouble brewing and both Serena and Alistair wish to have a hand in its prevention. Being royals and what not they are unable to travel as easily as I am so they sent me in their stead, for the time being anyway."

"What kind of trouble," Dorian asked, unable to keep quiet any longer.

"I like his voice," Aiden said candidly as he eyed the shirtless mage leaning in the obliterated doorway. "And in answer to your question _fine_ Sir, the kind of trouble that could only come from Marian in a dress."

"What?!"

* * *

"This is going to end in disaster," Tara groaned as she paced before Cullen's desk in the Commander's office. "I have to figure out who to take with me to assist in stopping the assassination of the Empress of Orlais, at a ball! A damned party! With wine and frills and…just…just, so many people! The killer could be anyone, I need people with me who can cope with that kind of environment and simultaneously keep up the Inquisition's appearance!"

"Well then I guess you'll have to leave Iron Bull and Marian behind for sure," the blonde haired commander said with a chuckle.

"Oh no, Marian Hawke is going! If I have to wrestle her into a gown myself, she will be there. Apart from Cassandra she in the only other one woman wrecking crew I'd want at my back if this all goes south fast."

"Having the Campion of Kirkwall along would not hurt either. Sure Kirkwall went to shit but Garrett fought off a Qunari and is a renowned do-gooder."

"Aiden their cousin, Maker preserve me, will have to come as he is the royal ambassador of Ferelden…somehow…perhaps he can seduce some valuable information out of someone for us." Tara heaved a sigh, "Though I'll admit the Hawke siblings and their cousin all in one room could be a disaster in and of itself. Did you hear the way the three of them carried on?"

"I think all of Skyhold heard them," Cullen concurred with the roll of his eyes, "but to their credit the Hawkes were always the very essence of decorum when I viewed them at functions in Kirkwall…even without court training or knowledge, those two fit right in. Do not worry overly much about having them along."

"Okay, so I shall have them, Aiden, my councilors…do you think Bull's Chargers would be a good addition?"

"They could go as your retainers," Cullen offered. "Then if anything were to happen they would be nearby."

"Good idea…let's see, who else could I trust to be in the actual ballroom…Dorian! Of course, not only would he be a wonderful asset he would absolutely love it!"

"I know you have a certain _fondness_ for the man but do remember we are going to Orlais, and he _is_ Tevinter. Proudly Tevinter, and a blood mage at that."

"Are we going to fight about him again," Tara asked her gaze sharpening as she cocked an eyebrow at the still armor clad commander.

"No," Cullen responded holding up his hands. "I just want you to understand that not everyone will be as receptive to Dorian as you are."

"I know that dear…I mean…" Tara blushed, as did her coat clad counterpart. The two of them had not had much time alone as of late. Not that this had dampened Tara's own interests in any way but sometimes she worried that Cullen's priorities had again shifted to exclusively include his work.

"It has been a long time it seems since you called me anything other than Commander…I like it…I have, missed it."

"G-good. That's good, I mean…I have missed it as well," Tara admitted softly.

"Perhaps once this Orlais business is all settled you and I might find a bit more time to escape," Cullen offered with a smile. "Even a simple walk in the garden or along the ramparts? I shall see to it that I make time."

"I know that we both have our duties and that they cannot be neglected Cullen it is alright…"

"No," the tall blonde stated firmly cutting Tara off, "they cannot be neglected. But…we are still people outside of our positions here, and ten minutes…just long enough to…ten minutes to speak with you is just as important as ten hours training the soldiers."

At that the petite woman flushed anew. "Cullen…"

"I mean it," the commander said as he rounded his desk and caught the shorter woman's chin in his fingers. He hesitated then an instant later he kissed her. It was a soft chaste thing but it made Tara's knees go weak all the same. Cullen pulled back then placed another short peck on the tip of her nose. "Now, go get some rest. We have a long journey ahead of us. Goodnight Tara."

"Goodnight Cullen."


	7. Chapter 7: Old Wounds

"You all look marvelous!" Tara's exclamation was accentuated by the loud smack of her hands as she faced her entourage with an, in Marian's opinion, sickeningly wide smile.

"Thank you Milady," Aiden chimed back moving forward to bow lowly before the Inquisitor. "And might I say you look utterly _ravishing_. Where ever did you get that decadent gown?"

"Okay," Cullen then said stepping forward to place himself directly between Tara and the tall suit clad arcane warrior. "Perhaps we should head inside? They have been letting guests in for a bit now and I fear we are about to be late."

"Right," Aiden retorted rolling his eyes as he dragged out the vowel. "Very subtle Commander, make sure you keep that going while we're on the lookout for an assassin."

"Yeah yeah," Marian muttered as she shoved her older cousin into motion. "Why don't we get you inside seeing as you have the expert experience with assassins. You can torment Cullen with your _considerable_ charms later."

"You shouldn't let him get under your skin Mar," Garrett muttered as the suit-clad mage moved to stand at his sister's side while the others moved on ahead.

"Tara and Cullen have a budding romance going on and Aiden, even if he _is_ family, needs to keep his nose and whatever else out of it. I don't care if it is a mere jest. He is far too experienced and cynical when it comes to these things. He could cause irreparable damage and we both know it."

"Why," the big man asked with an unamused chuckle, "because he sort-of lost Zevran? You think that he's some callous love bashing lout now?"

"He was always a lout but at least back _then_ he was a more innocent one…"

"Marian, I know you are pissed because you're in a dress and because for your own reasons you cannot let what happened go. But for the Maker's sake let the _rest of us_ go! You don't have to champion everyone else's love life just because you got burned. I am actually believe it or not doing okay at the moment. And Aiden is doing fine even though Zevran probably hasn't seen him once in the last four years! Let. It. Go. Now, we have a job to do." Garrett's quiet tirade ended and without even the hint of a backwards glance he strode off after the others. For her part Marian inwardly struck herself several times, her heart pounding at the bare brutal truth in his words. How long had he been mulling that over?

Why _was_ she always snapping like some attack dog…

' _Because the best defense is a good offense',_ she offered herself silently.

"You look very nice if I might say so milady."

Marian started as Krem's voice and warm breath tickled the side of her currently exposed throat. She turned her head to face the warrior and found herself blinking as her eyes beheld the wonder that was Cremisius Aclassi clad in fine clothing. The warrior woman blushed slightly and nervously crossed her arms as she cleared her throat.

"Thank you Krem…you look rather dashing yourself. Though I must admit _I_ would prefer being in pants should anything _exciting_ occur," Marian grumbled as she smoothed the skirt of her gown. Krem had to agree that the dress was not necessarily ideal fighting garb, but Andraste did it look wondrous on her.

Without her heavy armor to cover her figure Marian was quite the feminine beauty. Her angular physic was draped in crimson, gold, and star-sky blue. The gown hung down across her square shoulders and low on her chest, granting an enticing view of the top of her cleavage. It accented her narrow waist, and for his part, Krem could not stop imagining getting the opportunity to lay his own gloved hand upon that curve as they danced.

If she even would agree to dance…or knew how to dance…

"You're staring Cremisius," Marian whispered as her right hand moved up to rub at the back of her neck. She longed to tug at her usual braid, but her hair was currently piled atop her head in a delicate weave of jewels and ribbon.

She half expected Krem to run right then but the usually shy man surprised her and instead bestowed her with a grin.

"I can' help it. And trust me I have tried…but I always end up looking at you…may I accompany you inside?" He offered her his arm then, watching her with gentle eyes to see what she might do next. Those eyes that had seen her at her darkest moment only a few days prior, now beckoned her silently to trust them.

Garrett's words rang loudly in the back of her mind. Her own heart swelled with a shocking jolt. Fear echoed the warning that those eyes were all too familiar. And something small and tender inside her yearned with all of its pitiful might.

She took his arm.

* * *

"You should save me a dance," Tara said quietly as she and Cullen moved down the staircase towards the announcing tier of the ballroom.

"What?"

"Dance. Will you dance with me later perhaps," the Inquisitor asked again with a dazzling smile. As a daughter of the Ostwick court it was no surprise that despite her gown Tara moved as if she were in the finest leather armor. And now the sway of her hips was enhanced to the alluring point of distraction for an already mildly overwhelmed Cullen.

He had to figure out what was going on. He had to help find this assassin hiding somewhere in the palace. He had to be in control of the Inquisition's people and their safety should anything go wrong. He had to protect Tara…and she wanted to know if he would dance.

Maker preserve him he didn't know how.

The wash of barefaced adoration, romantic and unbridled as always, stunned the Commander for nearly half of a minute. "No," he said out of reflex.

Instantly Cullen regretted speaking as he watched those star drunk eyes fade and Tara whirled back to face the crowd. "Sorry. Silly question…" she said hastily before descending onto the main floor as they were introduced to the court. With the capable flourish of a practiced official the petite silk clad woman exchanged pleasantries with the Empress before moving off to one of the walks around the ballroom. Cullen made to follow her but ended up being position by Cassandra to stand watch from a far corner and Tara had already slipped away to find clues to the assassination.

* * *

"Quite the party eh, I mean it is nothing like the balls back in Tevinter but, still to be back in the thick of the debauchery and the satins and the silks and devastatingly handsome men, namely myself, in fitted suits!"

"You like being here," Garrett said with a wide smile as Dorian Pavus gestured dramatically at the events unfolding all around them with his glass of spiced brandy.

"I do," the mustached mage said curtly but with an answering grin. "I love the grand game…it is disgusting and underhanded and I cannot stomach it every day but at my heart I suppose I do love it somehow."

"Sounds like a tragic affair," the burly Ferelden responded as he swiped a glass of wine from a passing tray.

"It is but I am currently searching for something far less tragic, and I think I might actually being doing alright." At that the other mage blushed, choking a bit as he tried to take a drink to buy himself time to react.

"You'd better slow down and assist me in catching this assassin if you want to continue to explore said less-tragic-something."

"Now you're starting to sound as pessimistic as your sister Garrett," both mages turned to find Aiden moving to stand alongside them. The dark haired Amell was looking exceptionally dangerous and devastating this evening. Unlike the others he wore the colors of the Ferelden court, a dashing display of black, gold, and Grey Warden blue. Dorian briefly dragged his eyes over the older man before turning his gaze back to the Champion at his left.

Garrett looked astounding in his own deep crimson and gold garb, and he merely shrugged off his cousin's teasing with a casual grin. "I thought it was a family trait that just showed up once you started to get _old_."

"Hey I am young where it counts," Aiden added with a wink towards Dorian.

"And is that not a relief!" Garrett's eyes widened as a semi-familiar form appeared behind his lanky cousin. At the sound of that ever taunting accented voice Aiden whirled around and found himself looking down at Zevran Arainai. The elf cocked an eyebrow up at his long time on-again off-again lover and smiled slightly.

"What are you doing here," Aiden immediately asked, stepping closer to the elven man, momentarily forgetting Garrett and Dorian's existence.

"I would assume that I am here for similar reasons that you are mi amor," the blonde purred as his eyes craftily darted off towards a shadowed hallway leading back into the palace. Aiden swallowed hard his heart beginning to pound in his chest. There were so many things he wanted to ask Zevran, but he also knew his lover best. This was a delicate situation and he would not have been there without reason. It would be too dangerous for him otherwise as the Crows still hunted him after all.

"I will return," the coal eyed Amell said briskly to his cousin before following after the former Crow. Dorian blinked after the two had gone then cast his quizzical gaze up to Garrett's unmoving yet clearly curious gaze.

"Did your cousin know that man…they seemed to have _tension_?"

"That elf is why my dear cousin has _expert experience_ with assassins. He tried to kill Aiden and the current set of Ferelden monarchs when they all first met…"

"And then? They became, _friends_ ," the Tevinter pried.

"Yes, let us say that."

* * *

"You look well mi amor."

"And you look alive," Aiden retorted sounding unamused as he followed the elven man into a dark room. They walked in silence to the center of the room. The arcane-warrior sweeping a hand back locking them in before he whispered, "Why did you not send word to me?"

"I thought you wanted to know why I was here," the blonde shot back playfully. Aiden crossed the small gap between the two of them and abruptly gripped the front of Zevran's decoratively stitched shirt and lifted him from his feet.

"Naturally," the dark man hissed as his dangerous eyes pierced into the assassin's own golden gaze. "I have not heard from you in years…Kirkwall went to shit and that's the last place I knew of you being…I thought you might be _dead_ Zev."

"Might be? So you really do trust my abilities! I am flattered beyond words."

"Damnit Zevran!" Aiden's fist slammed into the wooden shelf beside him, knocking several novels from their place and splintering away a corner of the frame.

"I am sorry," the elf said slowly as his hands wove up to grasp either side of Aiden's face. "I knew that it would torture you but it was safer for everyone if I vanished for a bit. I missed you as well and it was no easy task to stay away from you. I crept to the castle twice so I could just catch a glimpse of your face as you slept. I would imagine the warmth of your lips and I would yearn for you many nights…but I had to stay away…and now here I am, and here you are."

"…You have to know that I cannot let you assassinate the Empress," Aiden said slowly his body tensing for a fight.

"You misunderstand mi amor, I am not here to kill her majesty."

"Truly," the dark arcane-warrior asked hesitantly.

"I would not _lie_ to _you_ Aiden. I could not." Another tense minute passed between the two then suddenly the raven haired man gripped Zevran's hips and crushed their lips together.

The kiss was as fierce as the warrior himself and the elf sank into it. His hands roamed Aiden's muscular chest freely, pulling aside buckles and fabric until he was able to wrench back and place a precise bite at the joint of the other man's neck. The warrior growled and moved further into the room until he found a small seating area. He pressed Zevran back onto a sofa, looming over his smaller lover as he began divulging him of his clothing.

"We do not have time for this mi amor…"

"Do not tease me. If you did not expect this to happen you would have not sought me out and we both know it."

"You know me so well," Zevran said with a leering grin. Abruptly the nimble assassin wrapped his legs tightly around his lover's waist and reversed their places. Aiden first attempted to get back up, but then the elven man's hands hooked into the now loosened band of his pants and the big man stilled. Black hair fell back as the warrior suppressed a deep groan when his member was finally freed. "I forget how big you are mi amor," the elf murmured as he dragged his lips across the edges of Aiden's already swollen head.

"Maker," the lanky man moaned as his big hands settled into the silky locks of Zevran's hair as it hung down to tickle his thighs. "I have missed you Zev…not just this…I just…I was so worried…"

"And I am sorry for causing you to worry. I am here now mi amor, please let me love you now as we have both been longing for."

"Yes," Aiden hissed out as the elf's mouth swallowed his length. His massive chest heaved as pleasure coursed through his entire body. It had been so long. There had been nights when the arcane-warrior had wanted to lose himself in the talents of another. To feel even a shred of the passion that he shared with the former Crow. He had never fallen prey to that desire, and now that Zevran was here with him, he wouldn't have traded anything for this.

The elf tactfully drove the other man crazy with his tongue, teeth and lightly wandering hands. Aiden felt the past few years fall away from his mind and body. Aching age old scars warmed until they no longer held hostage over him. The elf felt his lover's balls clench and hollowed his cheeks to increase the suction of his cheeks in anticipation of Aiden's climax. But the dark warrior suddenly ripped him away, settling the startled assassin in his lap and giving him a much more languid kiss than before.

"Mi amor, why did you…"

"I want more," Aiden growled a moment before he tore the remnants of Zevran's clothing away and moved his muscular arms up to hold the elf's own trembling flesh level with his mouth. He devoured his lover then, relishing as the assassin's nails scraped across his scalp in response to his administrations. When Zevran's own arousal was nearly out of control he too tried to twist away not wanting the interlude to end just yet, but Aiden merely tightened his grip holding the smaller elven man captive to his pleasure.

"A-Adien! Mi amor! Please…por favor, aun no! Déjame sentirte…" Again Aiden moved with all of the grace and strength of a lion and Zevran found himself on his back, his lover looming over him with a predatory smile stretching his lips.

"You want me inside you Zev?"

"Si," the tattooed man panted, "please Aiden."

"On one condition," the big man murmured as he leaned down to nibble at the sensitive edge of the other man's ear, the tip of his erection grinding teasingly against the elf's entrance.

"Anything…"

"Anything?"

"Yes mi amor. Whatever you desire of me."

"I want you to come home…come live with me please Zev. I cannot do this…I cannot wait years to see you again. I was a mess when I thought you might be dead…only the most stubborn stupid kind of hope kept me as I was. If we are going to be together then we can be together but this half-life…Zevran I'm not getting any younger. The Taint…you cannot imagine how much worse it has gotten and one day I will be lost to it. I want a life before that time comes, as selfish as that sounds, I do. And I want that life with you, but if you cannot or do not want that I understand…but I'm drawing a clear line with you. I let you go after the Blight, I believed in you after Kirkwall fell and now I'm asking you to stay with me."

The elven man sat up slightly, one hand reaching up to cup the side of Aiden's face. "I can't do _this_ anymore," the warrior continued. "I have waited years to tell you this…and now I just _need_ to know what you want."

"Mi amor…" Zevran sighed his eyes falling away from Aiden's for a moment. "I want to be with you…I _do_! But," another heavy sigh fell from the elf's lips as he moved to sit up, forcing Aiden to sit back as well.

"But…?"

"…You should know why I _am_ here." Instantly coal black eyes narrowed into penetrating slits. "It is…Morrigan is here Aiden…she is here with your son."


	8. Chapter 8: Shut Up and Dance With Me

"Where are you going?"

Marian ceased her stride, casting a glance back at Krem as he watched her over the rim of his freshly appropriated glass. "The dancing has started," the auburn haired beauty said plainly. "The Inquisitor herself is serenading Gaspard's sister out there on the floor and people are moving into their cliques, which means that the staff will be going back about their business, and if I have learned anything from being around nobles it is that their servants usually know more about what goes on inside the walls of a household than anyone else. So, I am going to go see if I can't eavesdrop or steal something of importance to our cause."

"I shall go with you," the lieutenant offered setting his drink aside.

"Two people will be less inconspicuous…"

"And you getting jumped alone for getting to close to the truth would be disastrous. Besides I happen to be a rather good spy myself. I'll be helpful I promise." Marian frowned but realized that Krem was probably correct. The warrior woman sighed then nodded her head towards a nearby stairwell she had seen many of the staff moving through.

The two walked at a leisurely pace, nodding polite hellos at other party goers and craftily feigning disinterest in any servants they happened to pass. All around them were whispers of intrigue and hushed opinions about the current seated ruler of Orlais. It was hard not to jump at the tidbits, but both warriors were still banking that the true meat of the matter was likely buried in the servant's quarters.

The two finally came into the Hall of Heros and found that they were alone. Marian instantly moved to a door located at the end of the hall. When she tried the handle however she found it locked. "Damnit…" the warrior whispered as she silently wished she'd had the foresight to bring a rogue along with her.

"Here let me have a go at it," Krem said as he edged in beside the dress clad woman and produced a lock pick from his jacket pocket. "Keep an eye out, this could take me a bit."

"Okay," Marian said impotently, feeling somewhat useless as she moved to peer out at the adjacent hallway. For a few tense minutes all that the warrior could hear was the not-so-distant merry making coming from the ballroom and the metallic grind of Cremisius' pick against the lock. Then the clear click of footsteps sounded from the far end of the hall.

"Krem…" Marian whispered as she pulled back from the doorway, "someone is coming."

"I've almost got it," the Charger Lieutenant muttered back.

"There's no time," Marian hissed, turning to drag Krem back up onto his feet just as the lock clicked open. In one smooth move the suit-coat clad warrior slipped an arm around the auburn haired beauty's waist and whirled them both into the room beyond, shutting the door softly and placing himself against it. Krem waited until the footsteps moved past then exhaled a small breath and turned his face to grin at Marian.

"And you didn' want to bring me!"

The warrior woman stared at the charming brunette and blushed as she caught the spicy scent of his skin. His right arm was still securely around her middle and she could feel the muscle of his upper arm despite the layer of fabric between them. How long had it been since she was held in such a way?

Krem's gaze met and held Marian's, his heart rising until it became stuck in his throat. Those eyes, they were so beautiful and yet filled with so much turmoil…then, something else, a burning glint that struck fire in the most primal part of the lieutenant's mind.

Suddenly the doorknob behind them moved and the barrier began to swing open. Cremisius reacted without thinking. His arm around Marian's waist tightened, his opposite hand moving up to the nape of her neck, pressing her forward until their lips met. He hoped that whoever was about to discover them would ignore two 'lovers' having a private moment.

"Oh! I do hope I am not interrupting." The familiar voice of Tara Trevelyan instantly made the two warriors pull apart and turn twin sets of wide eyed gazes upon the petite rogue's smiling face.

"Inquisitor," Marian stammered, her face turning bright pink as she attempted to shake off what had just occurred, and explain. Tara held up a hand halting the taller woman's words.

"It's alright, I was only jesting. Good thinking on your part, pretending to be paramours seeking privacy!"

"Yes, that's exactly what…you get it Boss," Krem hastily said, his own face a fierce crimson.

"Well then, have either of you found anything?"

"Not yet, we'd only just broken in here before you showed up."

"I see, well I managed to speak with the Grand Duke. Gaspard…he, had some interesting things to say. He seems to believe that an elven woman named Briala is planning to ruin the peace talks tonight. Which means that the elven servants would probably be a fair bet as well so thank you for saving me the trouble of having to break that lock, now shall we?" The dress clad leader of the Inquisition nimbly swept past the couple and made her way towards the back of servant's quarters. Eager to escape the awkward tension quickly rising between them Marian hastily followed after, Krem trailing along a few paces behind.

The trio continued into the bowels of the palace. Everything seemed to be perfectly in order. Right up until Tara turned a corner and nearly slammed into a Venatori agent.

* * *

Zevran had never seen Aiden Amell so still.

The big man was currently seated at one far end of the low sofa they both occupied. His elbows were braced upon his thighs as he leaned forward, hands folded in front of his mouth, his dark eyes staring at something far beyond the wall before him. He had held that stance for a full ten minutes since the elf had divulged that their old _associate_ was currently in the vicinity.

"Why?" The word was uttered in a low voice rife with emotions ranging from anger to what sounded suspiciously like sadness. Aiden sat back and roughly rubbed his hand over his face as he let out a harsh hissing sigh. "She asked you to be here…didn't she?"

"She did. I had been in Starkhaven for a few months when I received a letter. Morrigan told me that she had unearthed rumors of a possible assassination attempt on her employer…"

"She is employed by the Empress," Aiden whispered in disbelief.

"Yes," the tanned elf confirmed gently. "She is her Majesty's court mage. It is a favored position that allows her much freedom from what I understand, yet it has also put her in the way of harm…Morrigan fears that whoever is trying to kill the Empress would also target her, or possibly her son."

"So she sent for you…to watch her back…"

"I wanted to protect your son Aiden," Zevran admitted in an unflinching tone, "and if I had to also protect her to do it then so be it." Again silence fell heavily between the two men. Then abruptly Aiden rose to his feet and began redressing with a mechanical efficiency.

"Do you know where she is," the lanky arcane-warrior asked briskly as he pulled his shirt back into order. Zevran hurried to also reclaim his clothing as he responded.

"I would imagine that she is with the Empress…wait, mi amor you cannot just barge up to the…" The elf suddenly realized that his lover was no longer listening to him and doubled his efforts to re-button his jacket as the big man began striding away. "Aiden. Mi amor wait! AIDEN!"

He had the same singular intensity he had in the midst of battle. Even as Zevran chased after the tall man he knew that there was little he could do to stop him. Aiden stepped back out into the garden the still disheveled looking assassin not far behind.

Dorian spotted the duo and elbowed Garrett as he muttered, "Your cousin has returned to the party with a certain _vengeance_." The big mage turned, his eyes widening as he took in Aiden's positively murderous demeanor and the nearly frantic expression on Zevran's face.

"Maker take me...Aiden!" The sound of Garrett's low voice boomed out over the garden, causing everyone to start and thankfully caused his older cousin to halt his stride. The big Ferelden then quickly made his way over to the dark eyed man, Dorian and Zevran not far behind. The shorter elven man instantly gripped onto his lover's right elbow as he reached him, as if he could physically prevent the massive warrior from moving again.

"What is it Garrett," Aiden snapped causing the younger mage to raise an eyebrow.

"I was just wondering where you might be so vehemently going, that's all."

"My _son_ is in this palace, and so is the _bitch_ that bore him." The arcane-warrior's words blew the wind from his younger cousin's sails, leaving Garrett momentarily speechless. "And Zevran is here _guarding_ her life against tonight's _festivities_ apparently. I have just only learned this…I had no idea what happened to her or the child after the Archdemon was defeated Garrett."

The hulking mage's heart broke for his family member. He had never spoken in length to Aiden about what had happened regarding the strange witch named Morrigan. But he had known that his cousin had sired a child under rather unusual circumstances, a child that had vanished along with its mother years ago. "If you wish to seek out Morrigan then let us do so, but not now. Not like this Aiden. There is too much at stake, including her life tonight. Zevran, would you please return to your post. We shall accompany my cousin to the ballroom to resume our vigil. After this is done, please see to it that my cousin has an audience with this witch."

Zevran could have cried he was so relieved, even more so when Aiden begrudgingly nodded his approval and heaved a deep steadying breath. "Until later mi amor," the elf whispered, leaning in to kiss Aiden's shoulder before moving back into the shadows of the Winter Palace.

"I will see Morrigan this night and I _will_ have answers," Aiden growled threateningly. This time is was Garrett who nodded his acceptance before gently ushering his older cousin to move back inside.

"For the meantime why don't you go find Leliana and see if she has seen or heard anything?"

"Perhaps…perhaps that would be wise," Aiden admitted with another smaller sigh. "I am sorry Cousin…I should be _helping_ you with this and instead…"

"It is alright Aiden. I understand, and so will Leliana. So go _talk_ to her, and just stay out of our way while we handle this assassin business." The tall dark Amell's lips twitched into an unwilling smile as the big man let out a huff of laughter.

"You always know just what to say Garrett…Dorian, watch his back. Or it is not Marian and all of her bluster whom you shall have to fear." With that Aiden moved off his stance substantially less threatening than it had been minutes ago.

"I do not mean to ask this as an insult…" the sound of Dorian's voice drew Garrett's gaze away from his cousin's broad back. The Tevinter mage hesitated, his own eyes briefly drooping to his half-full glass before he continued, "…is everyone in your family so troubled?"

"No. Actually I have a younger sister named Bethany who is completely happy with her life. She lives in my family's old mansion and does charity work in Kirkwall. Everyone else is dead or troubled, but Beth, well I mean Varric's nickname for her is Sunshine so that has to mean something right?"

"Dear Maker what have I gotten myself into," Dorian dramatically sighed before tossing back the remnants of his beverage. He caught the look that passed through Garrett's gaze and realized that his jest had hit much deeper than he had intended. Quickly the Tevinter man set his glass down on a nearby window ledge and looped an arm around the hulking mage's waist. "I am sorry. That was ill timed, and even more poorly executed. Will you accompany me to the ballroom so that I may dazzle you with my dancing abilities as an apology?"

Garrett's face shifted into a smiling visage once again as the big mage said, "That sounds wonderful…but perhaps we should check with the others first. We have learned little from standing aimlessly in the garden, outside of my cousin's personal issues."

"What do you mean darling," the Tevinter mage asked quirking an amused brow. "There were several instances where some very interesting dialogue was exchanged between the nobles flitting about. Including two gentleman who were discussing seeing a rather concerning spattering of what might be blood spotted on an 'upper walkway'."

"You are just telling me this now!"

"Calm yourself. I also happened to spot your sister, the Inquisitor, and Cremisius shadowing about the upper terrace while we were there. So I am assuming that whatever those gentlemen were speaking of, it is already being investigated. I suggest that our best course of action is to return to the ballroom as you said, and make sure that the others have all rejoined the festivities safely."

Garrett stood blinking at the smug looking mage at his side for a long moment before managing a retort. "And here I was, thinking that you were just getting yourself nice and sotted. That's amazing Dorian!" The Tevinter waved off the other mage's praise.

"Not at all! Tis merely a part of the grand game my dear, I was groomed to be so vigilant in social settings such as this."

"Well I was not, and I happen to find your talent rather impressive," the hulking Ferelden said as he pulled the shorter man into his side and placed a chaste kiss upon his brow. "Shall we then," Garrett then insisted motioning towards the ballroom's exterior hallway.

The two men made their way back into the center of the palace. Once inside the ballroom they made a round of the upper walkway, stopping to check in with each stationed Inquisition member. To Garrett's relief he saw that Aiden had in fact found Leliana and that the two were currently dancing and chatting their way around the dancefloor. He was doubly relieved when he spotted his sister, along with Krem and the Inquisitor, standing around Commander Cullen.

Marian spotted the two mages and after exchanging a few more words she and Krem moved away from the two Inquisition heads.

"Mar, what's happening?"

"A lot, but at the same time I am not certain," the dress clad warrior woman admitted in a hushed tone. "There are whispers everywhere…and several things have come to light…I dare not say more as there are also Venatori agents among the party goers."

"Venatori," Dorian and Garrett both repeated in muted tones. Krem nodded.

"Them as well as a contingent of Chevalier hired mercenaries…death it seems is around every corner and behind every mask."

"Look," Marian then said indicating towards the dancefloor. "Tara is getting into position…we should all get out there, I fear that hell is about to break loose. Be on your guard brother."

"I shall see to his back," Dorian said firmly before sending Garrett a charming grin and offering the hulking mage an arm. "Come. We shall place ourselves near your cousin should he and our beloved Bard require assistance."

"And we should make certain we are watching Tara's back," Marian said as her hand found Krem's before she all but dragged the Charger Lieutenant down to the dancefloor.

The Inquisitor swayed through the throng of merrymakers with deceptively easy grace. Her sharp gaze moved along the shadows surrounding the Empress as Celene watched the festivities below her. A woman dressed in decadent purples with eyes like a cat suddenly appeared at the Orlesian ruler's side. The new arrival's golden gaze fell upon Tara, freezing her in place.

Suddenly an arm wrapped around the Inquisition leader's waist and faster than she could blink Tara found herself swept up into the steps of a dance. Aiden Amell's eyes did not meet hers as he said, "Do not allow her to alarm you. She is not the one who wishes to harm the Empress."

"Aiden! Oh you scared me," Tara chided as her eyes again moved to roam the room for Duchess Florianne. "Do you know that woman?"

"Her name is Morrigan, she is the Empress' court mage…I traveled with her during the Blight. She is not one I would consider to be a _good_ person but she is at her Mistress' side to aide in her protection from what I understand. I take it you have news as to our true assassin?"

"Yes," the petite rogue concurred. The tall arcane-mage then twirled his dance partner around lifting her completely off of her feet as he masterfully used the dance's steps to give Tara a better view of her surroundings. As she spun, Tara's eyes caught sight of Florianne de Chalons' unmistakable golden locks moving up the stairs towards the landing where Celene stood. "It is Gaspard's sister," she whispered as she found her feet once again on the solid tile. "The blonde, there on the steps…and unless I am wrong she is making her move!"

Aiden's eyes followed the Inquisitor's line of sight, coming to rest on Morrigan, who was directly in the supposed assassin's way. "Then so shall we," the dark man growled an instant before he disengaged from the dance and began marching after the Duchess who was drawing closer and closer to the Wild's witch.

Morrigan's gaze was unfortunately fixated on him however; she had not even spared anyone else a glance since he had begun moving.

 _Look at her_ , Aiden silently screamed as he practically jogged up the stairs. _Look at the woman coming right at you…Zevran, wherever you are hiding, please see her…_ As he reached the landing Aiden noted that Tara had reached the top of the stairs across from him.

Could she get a shot off from where she was without hitting the Empress?


	9. Chapter 9: Stealing From Statues

"Your Majesty, behind you!"

Tara's voice rang out over the noise of the crowd, and for the briefest of moments, time stood still. Florianne darted forward, shoving past the yellow eyed Morrigan as she brandished a cruel dagger. The Inquisitor also shot forward drawing her own blade from the folds of her skirt. From the opposite end of the landing Aiden Amell charged after the duchess, his eyes widening as multiple masked figures bled from the shadows around them.

The time of whispered intrigue was past.

And that was just fine with the midnight haired arcane-warrior. Aiden slammed into the cluster of attackers like some possessed force of nature. The first man he encountered he gripped by the wrist, breaking his arm with a quick snap before slamming the man's own dagger back through his throat. With deceptive ease he then twisted the next attacker's head around until his neck gave way like a branch. Then he was before Morrigan, facing down several more knife wielding upstarts. With a terrifying grin pulling up the edges of his mouth Aiden lifted a hand, and produced his magical blade of fire and lightning. "Come on then!"

On the dancefloor below more Ventaroi agents produced blades, a few quickly slashing into the throats and abdomens of their unsuspecting victims. Dorian cast Garrett a piercing look, before abruptly producing a small dagger. The Tevinter mage slit the palm of his hand then muttered something unintelligible. Blood spattered out into the air and in the blink of an eye everyone on the floor was frozen in place. The big Ferelden felt his lips part in a silent gasp then his shook off his initial surprise and nodded at his counterpart before moving towards the Empress. Healing magic filled the air as Garrett charged forward, saving the lives of several bleeding dignitaries.

From her place above the merrymakers Empress Celene let out a terrified scream of pain as Florianne's knife dug into her side, then Tara was upon the duchess. The petite rogue leapt into the fray, exchanging several blows with Gaspard's sister before the blonde hastily disengaged and fled to a nearby door. Tara then turned to assist Aiden, but found that a strange elven man had joined the warrior in his fight. "Go," the big man roared as he kicked another foe back into the awaiting blades of the elf. "Do not let her escape Inquisitor!"

"We are with you," Marian's voice sounded as Tara turned to give chase. The ever prepared Inquisitor reached for the tie at her waist and suddenly shed away her skirts revealing a set of leather leggings beneath. As she passed a fallen guard at the door Tara bent to divulge him of his bow and arrows before moving out into the private gardens. _Maker why didn't I think of that_ , the eldest Hawke lamented as her own skirts tangled precariously around her legs.

Krem and Marian came to a skidding stop just behind Tara as the Inquisitor found herself facing a locked gate, behind which Florianne was laughing mercilessly. "You are a clever woman Inquisitor, and a fine dance partner, but that is where your usefulness in this life ends. Corypheus will ascend to god-hood, and for being his most loyal subject _I_ shall then rule Thedas!"

"You cannot really believe that Corypheus would allow you such power, especially when you _failed_ to kill the Empress," Tara shouted back, notching her own arrow.

"But I can still kill _you_!"

Both women loosed their arrows simultaneously. Tara ducked and rolled forward beneath Florianne's explosive shot, which sent the Inquisitor's fellows flying back, and fired a second round. Her first arrow flew harmlessly to the duchess' right, the second grazed her throat. The blonde then leapt away running further into the gardens and out of Tara's range. "Maker take it! Come back here!"

Marian and Krem got back onto their feet just as Garrett came barreling out of the palace with Iron Bull, Cullen and Leliana not far behind. "Excuse me ladies," the big mage bellowed as he shot an ice spell at the metal gate crystalizing it. Tara nimbly moved aside just as the hulking Hawke and Iron Bull shouldered their way through, opening the way for the others to spill down into the gardens.

Tara was the first to engage Florianne in combat just after the duchess sounded a war horn and summoned a contingent of warriors to her aide. The two archers took to the upper railing and the tops of pillars as their arrows flew in a deadly exchange. Garrett stuck close to Cullen watching the Commander's back as the blond cleaved his way through foe after foe.

As they made their way down the stairs to the lower garden Krem paused by a statue, "We need weapons," he lamented to Marian. A sword wielding Venatori agent charged up the steps towards the eldest Hawke who immediately hiked up her skirts and landed a punishing kick to the man's face. He fell back and the auburn haired woman collected his sword with a triumphant, "Got it," before using her newfound blade to slice two matching slits in her skirt. "Just stay behind me until we find you something," she told the stunned warrior beside her.

Another set of attackers came towards the pair and Krem's gaze slid to the stone hammer wielding statue at his right. He jumped up onto the lower portion of the statue's base and with a loud cry ripped the hammer free of its place turning to bring it down with a resounding boom through one man's head as he tried to lunge at Marian's back. The tall warrior woman dispatched the other Venatori then turned her gaze fully upon Cremisius for a moment. He flashed a wide grin as he hefted the stone maul up into his hands once again and cheekily said, "Got it!"

Dear Maker she was in trouble.

* * *

"That was quite the show!" Dorian's laughter warmed everyone on the outer balcony as surely as the spiced rum punch they were all currently drinking. The Hawkes, the Tevinter, Bull and his Chargers, along with the other Inquisition advisors all stood together awaiting news from their leader who was currently meeting with the Empress to discuss the future of Orlais.

"Do you think the Orlesians will have a more favorable outlook on us Fereldens after that display," Marian asked Leliana with a teasing nudge.

"I doubt it, but they will definitely think twice before challenging any of us…and what's more, they _owe_ us a great deal. Hopefully they will not forget this," the Spymaster said with a small smile.

"I do not think that Her Majesty will be forgetting us any time soon." At the sound of Tara's voice everyone fell silent and turned to look at the Inquisitor as she approached. "Maker…I dislike how quiet you all got just then, please do not let my appearance lull your merrymaking!"

"Here, here," Garrett sang out as he raised his glass, causing the others to let out a hush of laughter. "But in all seriousness, how did the negotiations go?"

"They went well I suppose…it was a hard thing to use what we learned against Briala and Gaspard…They both had admirable goals and a rich history as _decent_ people…but Celene is the leader that Orlais wants and the ally the Inquisition needs…And thanks to you all she shall remain!" Marian moved to press a fresh glass into Tara's hand then raised a hand to her companions.

"Why don't we head back inside? We need to astound the Orlesians with our _finer_ qualities now that the danger is past I am sure," the warrior jested with a hearty grin. The others all followed her cue, and after a short shuffling line of congratulations had passed Tara found herself alone outside.

The night was mild and the air crisp. For a minute Tara was content to simply breathe. She missed this, the stillness that could surround you. It seemed that ever since the conclave there was always something happening. Some battle to be fought, a plot to unravel, someone in need… _will it ever end,_ she wondered. Then her mind turned to the Hawke siblings…

They had not asked for the lives they had lead either, and yet here they were, still trying to make things turn out right. Maker she didn't know if she could endure years of this…she felt so tired, so worn.

"There you are." Cullen's voice jolted Tara from her thoughts. She whirled around to find her Commander striding towards her, a soft smile spreading his lips. "Marian said you were here…I was assisting the royal guard in handling the Venatori agents we apprehended…I should apologize…"

"For what," the petite rogue asked as the taller man came to stand before her.

"About Dorian…what I said about him back in Skyhold, telling you to not bring him…I do not hold with the fact that he very openly used blood magic, but I cannot discredit its effectiveness. Many lives were saved because of him."

"You should be telling him this…he would be thrilled to know that someone else in the Inquisition can see something other than his nationality."

…"Perhaps I will have to say something to him." A long silence then stretched between them, and Tara turned to rest her forearms on the balcony railing. "I know it may sound foolish but …I was worried about you tonight," Cullen abruptly blurted out causing the rogue at his side to cast him an amused looking glance.

"That is…very sweet of you Cullen. I was worried as well, about everyone and everything. It all turned out alright though, another victory for the Inquisition!"

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Sarcasm, from me, never darling," the young woman teased with a wink. The joke was however deadened by her endearment, which caused the Commander to flush in the moonlight.

"Listen…a-about earlier, when you asked me to dance…I know what I said and I regret it. I have never tried to dance, there has not been much opportunity to learn such a thing for me…but for you, I would like to try." The petite rogue turned her gaze fully upon Cullen, her eyes sparking with that same excitement they had held at the beginning of the night.

"Truly," she breathed, and in a rare moment of romantic bravery the tall Commander moved to take the Inquisitor's hand pulling her into a dancing pose. The two began to step and whirl along in time to the music drifting softly from the ballroom interior. It was tentative, and tender and brilliant.

* * *

On another not so distant balcony another dance was occurring however this dance involved more silence and hard gazes than anythingelse. And if there were anything Morrigan had _not_ forgotten about Aiden Amell over the past few years, it was that the man could glare a dragon into submission. She had known he was in the Winter Palace, had known that having Zevran there would inevitably _complicate_ things, but she had also hoped that the Warden would act according the situation. And he had.

"You know when I first sighted you coming up those stairs, I wondered if you might be intent on strangling me…your face certainly gave that impression."

"I still haven't taken that option off the table." At the arcane warrior's deadpan delivery Morrigan could not help but flinch. Once they had been friends.. Aiden had been the only one in their group during the Blight who had held back his judgement of her. He had even convinced his sister Serena to engage her mother in a fight in exchange for _her_ freedom.

Then she had discovered The Ritual that would save the Warden's lives in the ensuing fight against the Arch Demon.

First she had tried to propose her plan to Serena with disastrous results…then Aiden had found her crying in a hallway of the Denerim Keep and convinced her to divulge what had happened. Caught between risking the lives of Alistair and his sister and the off-hand chance that he could strike the final blow, Aiden had then taken it upon himself to engage with her in The Ritual. She had become pregnant that night…and vanished shortly afterward.

Morrigan knew that she had not done the right thing by her former friend, but what else could she have done? "I understand," she said in a somewhat defeated tone.

"No. I do not think you do Morrigan," Aiden shot back. The lanky man had been leaning back against the railing of the balcony, but now he straightened to tower at his full height over her from only a few steps away. "I don't think you have the ability to comprehend exactly how enraged I am just _looking_ at you right now."

"I _can_ imagine that it is almost half as much Serena was the last time I saw her… _she_ would have slit my throat by now. Your rage pales in comparison."

"You were carrying _my_ _child_ you heartless…"

Bitch, he wanted to scream it to the Maker, this woman is a bitch, but he did not. Instead he paced away, then back again, breathing deeply as he tried to steady himself. He swallowed once, hard, and then attempted to speak once more. "What you did after…I _trusted_ you Morrigan…and then you vanished. I had no idea, none of us had _any_ idea where you went…and now here you are, with Zevran! Did you know that I thought he was _dead_?"

"No. I did not..."

"Of course you didn't, because you care about nothing and no one outside of yourself!" That comment pricked the witch's temper.

"Certainly not, that is why I offered myself as a means to keep you or your sister or your precious King from dying that day!" A stricken silence settled over the pair once again. "We shall get nowhere like this," the witch whispered as she let out a tired sigh.

"You are right…I am…frustrated…I only just learned that you were here, from Zevran, who I also just learned was here and alive."

"You stated that…you thought he might be dead?"

"I had not heard from him since I saw him in Kirkwall with my cousins after they assisted him in evading the Crows. Considering what happened there, it was not a far assumption that he might have perished."

"That had to have been difficult…I am sorry. I am sorry that I caused you more distress by leaving as I did…I thought that it would be easier for you and safer for me." There it was out in the open. The truth behind her actions, perhaps not as rational as it had seemed back then, but it was the truth all the same.

"Safer? You thought you would be safer pregnant on your own out in the world than with me, under the protection of the royal family of Ferelden?"

"You have to admit that your sister and Alistair hold no love for me…but yes, I know now that you would have taken care of me…however I wanted you to be able to have your own life with Zevran. You deserved it after all that you had been through." That statement caused some of Aiden's anger to dissipate. He knew Morrigan could not lie to him easily, and even after so many years, he could tell when the witch was not jesting in the slightest.

"I do not know if I deserve much in this world Morrigan but I did not deserve to have you leave as you did…it has made things very difficult."

"And I fear I shall not be making things much easier, though I promise that this is my intention…"

"What do you mean?"

"I had another motive for making an appearance tonight as I did…I was hoping to join the Inquisition as an official consort of Orlais. I believe I can be of use against this Corypheus…also I have news that I do not trust with anyone outside of the Inquisition." Aiden's gaze again narrowed.

"News? What news?"

"It…it involves the Wardens…past that I cannot say right now. I would prefer to discuss it with the Inquisitor."

…"Morrigan I _am_ a Warden…what is going on that you aren't telling me?"

"Listen…it is late and there is much that we have to speak of. If you secure a position for me with the Inquisition, I shall tell you everything once we are safely from here. Is this acceptable?"

"On one other condition," the black eyed man said sternly.

"And that is?"

"I want to meet my son."


	10. Chapter 10: Sloppy Seconds

Garrett was at a loss.

Things had been utterly strange since the business in Orlais had come to its conclusion. Somewhere between the drunken celebration of their victory, and the return journey home, the members of the Inquisition had all seemed to fall prey to some silent nagging demon. Even Dorian, who had been a hero of the night, now seemed to be outright avoiding contact with everyone including the big mage. Choosing instead to hide away in the Keep's library or his room located on the same floor.

Perhaps it had something to do with the new addition to their team of sorts, Morrigan, not to mention her ebony haired son. The hulking Ferelden had not yet had a chance to meet his nephew, then again neither had the boy's father. Aiden had abruptly gone to ground the moment they hit Ferelden soil. No one seemed to know exactly where he had disappeared to, or why. Garrett would have asked Zevran if he knew anything, but the assassin had also vanished without a word.

Marian had brushed their unexplained departures as the two needing some 'time to themselves', but that still did not give reason as to why Aiden would go without so much as seeing his own child.

Something was going on. The big mage could practically taste it in the air.

The problem was he could not for the life of himself figure out _what_.

From his place atop one of the high ramparts Garrett let out a loud sigh and hung his head forward to rest it upon the walk-way's inner wall. The gritty stone was cool from the mountain air, and it helped alieve some of the tension in his head.

"Dissatisfied by not knowing, not unlike _him_. You know more than you believe you do." The sound of Cole's voice shocked Garrett to the core and he stood up abruptly, twisting to find the strange boy crouching atop the low wall, watching him with prying eyes.

"You scared me."

"I did not mean to…I want to help…you have so much hurt, so much blood that weighs you down until you are drowning in it…so much pain from so much blood. You are not unlike _him_."

"Him? Who is _him_ Cole, other than having an amazing insight into my personal nightmares, you are not being very clear." Garrett had not had many interactions with the odd boy, but he had seen Tara speaking to him and she never seemed ill at ease. From what he understood, Cole had a particular ability to _see_ the feelings, or thoughts, of other people. An empath was the word Varric had used when he attempted to explain what exactly Cole was.

"The one you hope to glimpse in the courtyard when to come up here to think. He is there, by Iron Bull now." Instantly Garrett's gaze flew down to the training yard, riveting on the Tevinter man standing alongside the mercenary leader. The big mage's lips shifted briefly into a small grin, it was so nice to just _see_ him…then the mustached mage let out a laugh, his shoulders heaving at some joke the Qunari had voiced, and Garrett felt his own grin fall flat.

"He does not know how to tell you…his own hurt he hides it behind his smiles, but he knows that you can see. Or can you? He does not know. You both fear blood. You both _hate_ it, but you both have so much of it. How much blood did your father use to try to protect you? And yet you were hurt. You were hunted, as was your sister. We have all been hunted it seems…I do not want you to remember such fear…I _can_ fix it for you?"

"Cole no!" Garrett and the young blonde both froze as Tara's voice rang out from behind the big mage. He blinked as he realized that Cole's right hand was almost touching his forehead.

"But I can help him," the boy said sounding frustrated and mournful. "I can make him stop hurting, just a little?"

"Thank you Cole," the Inquisitor said as she jogged up to stand at Garrett's side. She smiled at the young blonde then moved a bit closer to him and gently moved his hand back down to the stone. "But I believe that Hawke will be okay. Give him some time. You'll see." The boy's eyes practically shouted back 'But I do see, and I see hurt', but Cole nodded slowly then vanished like smoke in the wind. After a moment of silence the big mage turned to cast his gaze upon the petite rogue next to him. He quirked a brow then asked, "What was Cole about to _do_ to me exactly? Why did you stop him?"

Tara sighed and motioned for Garrett to follow her as she began walking along the battlement. "Cole can…make people forget things, or rather, he can alter a person's perception of things…I'm not really sure how it works, but I have seen him…change people before. People who lament the death of a loved one because they blame themselves, things like that. He cares very deeply about people who _hurt_. I think if he had the power to make it so, he would alter the world so that no one felt pain, whether that is the pain of rejection or regret or whatever."

"He is an interesting lad for certain, a bit odd, but I commend his apparent ideal."

"As do I," Tara said with a smile. "He is a good boy, a _loving_ caring boy…" Garrett chuckled causing the Inquisitor to shift her eyes up to his now smiling face. "What?"

"I _know_ that tone. It is positively motherly, or sisterly I suppose I could also say. You look out for him don't you, well, you really look out for everyone, but Cole has a special little place in your circle of protection. It is endearing that's all. It…you reminded me a bit of my sister just then."

"I shall take that as a compliment," Tara said with another grin. "I caught the tail end of what Cole was saying to you…Dorian has been a bit removed as of late…I spoke with him the other day and he was not as spunky as he usually is. He seemed irritable and a bit bored to be talking to me, which has never been the case before. He is my friend, and he is bothered deeply by something…I came to seek you out in hopes that you might talk to him since you two are…"

"What," the big man asked. "We are not involved, you know that right? We have had one true date, but the rest of our interactions have been business, and now he is avoiding me." Cole's words echoed in the back of Garrett's head as Tara chewed her response.

"Listen Hawke…he likes you and everyone has skeletons in their closets…all I am saying is that at his core, I do not think Dorian is aggressive enough to chase down someone he is truly interested in especially if he is dealing with something personal. He's a fight the road alone kind of man…and I don't want him out there in the dark corners of his mind alone if he does not truly have to be. Please, talk to him. He respects me and likes me, we are friends…but he _sees_ something in you."

"Alright," Garrett said firmly as his gaze once again drifted down to where Dorian stood next to the big Qunari, "I will try…though at the current moment I am not so certain that it is not Iron Bull whom you should be having this conversation with." The Inquisitor pursed her lips but made no comment regarding the Charger's leader.

"Just try. What is the harm in trying?" The big mage froze and stared down at Tara, feeling a bit dizzy as he for the first time realized that for the position she found herself in, the Inquisitor was really quite young. But once he too thought the way she did; before the death of his mother, the abandonment of his lover, the corruption of both Orsino and Meredith, and the ultimate betrayal of Anders. Once he had been the first to offer an ear to listen, the one to ignore the nagging fear of failure because the possibility of victory was so much more fulfilling.

"I will try," the hulking Ferelden finally concurred, and then he turned and made his way to the stairs leading down into the court yard. He rounded the Herald's Rest and came up behind the two other men as they watched Bull's men working with Cassandra and a few new recruits.

* * *

"I'm just saying, Dorian, you carry around this picture of the qunari in your mind. Like you see us as this forbidden, terrible thing, and you're inclined to do the forbidden." Iron Bull's words jolted Garrett to a halt. A sinking feeling crept its way up into the big mage's stomach as he noted the distinctly flirtatious tone to the Qunari's words. The Tevinter man let out an elegant snort.

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"All I'm saying is, you ever want to explore that, my door's always open."

Jealousy boiled up like rancid bile in Garrett's throat, hotter than he could have ever expected. Dorian turned to face Bull, his lips already parted in preparation of a retort, but then he caught sight of a certain black haried Ferelden mage standing but a few steps away and faltered. "Hawke," the mustached man said, eye widening, "How are you?"

"Astounding," the big man clipped with a strained smile. "If you uh have a moment, could we go up to the library and chat?"

"Of course," Dorian stammered an embarrassed flush moving along the upper ridge of his cheekbones. "Yes, if you'll excuse us Iron Bull."

"I won't keep him from you overly long," Garrett added with another brittle grin at the Qunari. Iron Bull's answering smile was genuine as he waved a dismissive hand.

"Keep him I need to attend to these soldiers as I promised Cullen I would."

That was all the permission the big mage needed as he whirled on his heel and began marching towards the Keep. Dorian had to practically jog in order to keep up, though he did not dare point this out. The look Hawke had given Iron Bull just moments ago was not unlike the chilling glares his older sister could cast about like daggers. However, unlike Marian's stone worthy looks, Garrett's had carried a much darker potency.

The two made it to the library which was sparsely occupied enough that they could have spoken in the open and had relative privacy. But Garrett still made his way into the alcove that Dorian more or less called home. The moment the Tevinter man stepped into the space as well the big mage flung a hand out, and suddenly two bookcases shifted to block the opening back into the library. A thick wall of ice followed suit, and then the two of them were entirely alone away from prying eyes and ears.

It had been a month or so since the last time Dorian had been alone with the second eldest Hawke and the effect the man's proximity still had over him was astounding. He had been avoiding the other mage since his use of blood magic at the winter palace. Many people had taken note of said ability and…well it had been bad enough that he was from Tevinter when they were fighting Venatori. Now that he was also branded a blood magic user it was only a matter of time before there was some kind of up front fallout. And Dorian did not want Hawke to be anywhere near the uproar when it occurred. The man had been through too much already to have to worry about _his_ own mess.

Garrett turned and leaned back against the wall facing Dorian, watching the Tevinter man carefully, and attempting to find the most eloquent way to start their conversation. It _should_ have been easy. They had spoken like lifelong companions on their first date, but now Iron Bull's quips resounded through the big man's head until he could no longer see past them.

 _Screw it_.

"Dorian…you have been avoiding me, or rather you have been hiding away for weeks now and it has people worried. It has _me_ worried, but I'm not one to press so if you do not want or need to talk about whatever it is that is fine, but I really _am_ here for you if you would like to talk…unless our _terms_ have changed and you were just rather hoping that I would quietly bow out…which is also fine, I would just rather know up front and hear it now than wonder."

The mustached mage blinked, "What…whatever do you mean _terms_? What terms?"

"You, and, I."

"Oh…" In the blink of an eye Dorian caught on and his blush from the courtyard returned full force. "You are referring to what Iron Bull said?" The big mage nodded.

"I am. If you have a _thing_ for him that's fine, I won't get in your way or throw a fit by any means. As I said I would just rather _know_."

"I am most certainly _not_ involved with Iron Bull, as charming and handsome as _he_ thinks he is. I rather had my eye on a rugged Ferelden man, though I'm sure he questions that seeing as I _have_ been avoiding him." Instantly Garrett's stance relaxed, his big shoulders losing their rigidity and a small gentle grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. Dorian let out a huff of breath, raising both hands to press at the back of his head. His eyes closed briefly, "I am _sorry_ Garrett. I did not mean to make you wonder so…I just…I did not want to bring undue conflict or whatnot upon you…people have not exactly been _thrilled_ with my open use of blood magic…I hate it..."

"Hate what? That you saved all of those people? If they now whisper at your back, in the highly appropriate words of my sister, fuck them."

"It is not that, rumors and whispers I can deal with…when they are aimed only at _my_ back. By association however those I care for are also targets. Tara…the poor dear sweet girl, she has been defending my very existence in the Inquisition from the moment I appeared. She has enough on her plate _without_ the big bad _Tevinter_ mage also being a _blood_ mage…and you. You have your own troubles." The tanned mage paused to pace to the window and back. "As for my _hate_ it is directed at the very magic I use…I have no tolerance for ritual blood magic or that which involves demon assistance, but the kind that involves only my own blood…in Tevinter blood magic of some kind is around every corner, it is almost impossible to detect or combat without knowledge and the ability to use it yourself…"

"Dorian," large warm hands came to settle on Dorian's shoulders startling him into silence. Garrett smiled down at him, warm and wonderful as ever. The kind face that haunted the Tevinter man's every waking thought and dream, how he had missed him…the revelation was almost as shocking as the contact of the big man's lips as Hawke bent his head and kissed the other man soundly.

The wall behind Dorian pressed at his back as the larger man moved him, one large arm slipping about his trim waist as the other moved a hand to cup the back of his head as the kiss deepened. It made his knees feel weak, and caused his heart to take up a thunderous pounding within his chest. Garrett leaned closer until the two of them were tightly pressed together, then the big man pulled his face back and placed a light kiss upon the tip of Dorian's nose.

"You do _not_ need to defend your actions to me Dorian. My view of you did _not_ change when I saw you use blood magic. You are a controlled intelligent man with a sound set of morals regarding such things. I am _not_ going to lecture you, nor shall I spend my waking moments worrying about when you will fall prey to some demon. That is something I shall leave to the narrow minded of the world who know nothing about you…and Dorian, if there is _anyone_ in this world who is positively a champion at ignoring whispers about them, it is my cousin, but I am also _very_ good at it."

"You say that…"

"Dorian, I _want_ to be with you! I love talking to you, and you are an absolute joy to be around for me. An indescribable breath of fresh air in my life! So stop worrying about how others are going to impact _us_ and just…come have dinner with me. Please?" There was a long pause.

"Fine," the Tevinter man said softly, a sly smile turning up his lips, "but only if there is wine…perhaps we should just bring something up here? I like the privacy it offers."

"I agree. Let's go get our essentials, and Dorian? I am _very_ happy to have a second date with you."


	11. Chapter 11: Wash Away the Pain

**Author's Note: Thank you all for reading! I hope you're enjoying yourselves :) I look forward to posting again soon! Until then please rate, subscribe, favorite, or review to your pleasure!**

Marian's feet hurt, her back hurt, hell even her eyelashes hurt after a grueling few weeks acting as Leliana's personal errand boy. But she had done as the Bard had asked. While commanding a force consisting of a handful of spies, a modest contingent of soldiers, and a few veteran mages they had secured the Inquisition another victory at Suledin Keep. The triumph was by no means Marian's, but the way people were carrying on one might gather that impression. It was only because her fellows had laid waste to every foe between the gates and the Keep's current overseer, that she was able to ram her sword through the demon Imshael's face.

Certainly after the initial win she had broken open a few kegs and shared a night of celebration with those she currently found herself in charge of. But now that they were back in Skyhold she did not want to go to the Herald's Rest for more merriment and dramatic retellings of the siege. She wanted a hot bath, a good meal, and a bed.

Maker, she _was_ getting old, she thought as another set of young soldiers alternated between begging and teasing her to come along. Finally the auburn haired woman conceded defeat and allowed herself to get caught up in the infectious crowd. They entered the Herald's Rest and one of Marian's more vocal lieutenants immediately shouted out their victory causing the entire tavern to erupt into applause.

Quickly liquor and food was ordered for the returning conquerors, either by the soldiers or grateful patrons, though Marian herself politely declined her portion, and soon the tavern was bustling with energy. It was good to see those she had worked with so closely over the last few weeks safe and sound, reveling to their heart's content. It felt right.

She stayed for an hour, then wordlessly, when the mood had quieted a bit and people were beginning the newly returned soldiers to share tales of their adventures, Marian slipped out and into the dusky evening. For a moment she leaned against the side of the building, relishing the quiet courtyard. She allowed her eyes to fall shut and she inhaled deeply, the mountain air here was less chilling than in Emprise du Lion, it was almost like spring in comparison. It tasted of new beginnings and happier things.

It was almost just like the night air when she had shared her first kiss with…

No. Marian's eyes snapped open as she straightened and focused her mind elsewhere. She was not going down that road right now. She was too tired to fend off her own emotions, besides, that was years ago. It should be a pleasant distant memory if anything, not a shattering thought that could take the air from her chest and knife through her heart as viscerally as a poisoned blade.

"I take it your venture went well?"

As it had so many times before, the voice of Cremisius startled Marian from her current train of thought. The Charger Lieutenant stood not too far away, a searching look cast over his face. Soft eyes met the auburn haired woman's own weary gaze in the rapidly fading sunlight, and for a brief second Marian longed to walk over to the handsome former Tevinter and simply burry herself in his chest. Krem moved towards her and cocked a cute one sidded-grin, coming to pause just a step or so away.

"Well enough. We lost a few good men, but we emerged victorious and Emprise du Lion is a step closer to being liberated."

"You look very tired."

"I look like shit Krem, and I feel similarly," the warrior woman said with a chuckle.

"I doubt very much that you could ever look like shit Marian…"

"That is kind of you to say, but trust me, and I know what I look like right now. I have at least a week's worth of dirt and gore still encrusted on me and I have not slept for the past two days. I look like something a mabari might drag out of a gutter in Denerim. My whole body feels as if it was trampled by a herd of giant mountain Harts."

A glint appeared in the charming brunette's eye, "Wait right here," he said before moving quickly into the Herald's Rest. A minute later he emerged carrying a satchel and a wide grin. He reached out and snatched Marian's hand in his own giving her arm a light tug as he prompted, "Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"You shall see, just trust me."

Krem led the exhausted warrior into the Keep and then down into the bowels of the building. Past several doors that Marian certainly had never bothered to peer behind, they came to a portion of the castle that was basically just an underground cave occurring naturally in the mountain which housed Skyhold. With Bull's lieutenant still in the lead, and Marian's curiosity effectively peeked, the two followed the cave for a quarter of a mile. The cave then opened up into a wide pool that bubbled and steamed.

"Ta da," the cheeky brunette exclaimed with a wild flourish, "a hot spring here right beneath the Keep!"

"Krem…this is wonderful!" The still smiling Krem moved to a rock near the edge of the water. He set his satchel in his lap and produced a plush looking towel and a container of soft sand soap.

"I will stand guard for you while you have a nice soak," he said as he set the things down on a low rock near the water's edge. "Leave your armor there at the mouth of the tunnel, I shall clean it for you."

"Krem, you do not have to do that…"

"It shall give me something to do. An' I can't very well have my eyes wandering about while you take a bath right?" Marian flushed and opened her mouth to argue further but Cremisius held up a hand cutting her off. "Please, do not argue with me over this. You are a hero returned from a long battle. You really should be in a bath in some candle lit solar with at least three good looking men tending to your needs, but since this is the best I can do, just accept it and get in the damn spring."

"Three good looking men eh," the warrior woman said with a chuckle as she began un-strapping her armor.

"Or however many you might need," Krem shot back as Marian tossed her breast plate to him.

"Maker…" she huffed as she removed the rest of the armor then moved off behind a large rock to shed her clothing. "I'm getting in now," Marian called out as she peered around the rock to make certain her company was facing elsewhere.

"Go ahead," Krem said from the mouth of the tunnel. His eyes firmly fixated on the armor lying in his lap. He heard the small splash of Marian entering the water followed by a contented groan.

"This feels like heaven!" Krem could not stop smiling, and it was because of this that he was doubly glad that he had an excuse to not face the eldest Hawke. He had been concerned for her while she was gone on her latest mission. Having her back at Skyhold had lifted his spirits considerably. He could not imagine being happier than he was at the moment scrubbing the last weeks' worth of gore from her armor, simply listening as she bathed.

Marian scrubbed her skin pink, then laid her head back on a smooth rock and allowed her aching body to simply float and be gently massaged by the churning water. "I've done this before," she suddenly blurted out, causing the other warrior to pause. "Bathed in a spring I mean, though it was years ago, and that one was a considerable ways underground."

"Underground? What were you doing underground?"

"When my family lived in Kirkwall…my brother and I were indentured to two different criminal factions there. We had to align with someone in order to gain entry into the city when we were fleeing the Blight…anyway, after a year of being contracted thieves and mercenaries we had an opportunity to invest and make a fortune. It's how we met Varric, his older brother was leading and expedition into the Deep Roads in the Free-Marches and we ended up partnering up with him. We went on the expedition and the only bath we ended up getting was after we'd been underground for quite a while, but that stream was warm from being so close to lava veins…it was not what I would call the most _fun_ experience of my life...in fact everything pretty much started going straight to shit after that, but we didn't know it at the time, we were just finally doing it. We were going to secure a better life for our whole family."

"What went wrong…if that isn't too personal," Krem stammered, casting a brief glance back at the submerged warrior woman. She tossed a careless hand into the air and shut her eyes momentarily before shrugging.

"It's alright, I can't just keep bottling everything up and acting scared of the pain my memories hold for me…my poor brother has the same hurt, and he's been much more…he always handled things a bit better than I did," Marian said with a sad smile. "Garrett is a rock. But, that's a different topic…as for the blasted deep roads, hell, what _didn't_ go wrong. Varric's brother ended up betraying us after his mind was taken over by an idol make from red lyrium. He left us sealed in a room to die and we had to fight our way back to the surface. Demons, darkspawn, and even these creepy things called rock wraiths…everything down there wanted us dead, but we made it."

"You Hawkes are something else you know," Krem said as he picked up one of Marian's gauntlets. "I've heard some soldiers call you and your brother The Immortals. They also refer to you as the Iron Maiden."

"Are you joking," the auburn haired beauty asked as she flipped over onto her stomach and pulled herself up to rest her forearms over the rocks before her.

"Nope, dead serious…I'll admit I'm not personally a big fan of your nickname."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"I don' know…I guess it's because I know that there's more to you than that? You're a strong woman, impossibly strong, but you're not just all hard stuff…you're soft, and I like that about you." Marian blushed and quickly averted her eyes from the Tevinter man's.

"…I used to be softer…I fell in love with a mage in Kirkwall," instantly Krem was on high alert. His every nerve primed as the warrior spoke, he had not expected this. "His name is one I'm sure you have heard before, Anders?"

"Yes," Cremisius said softly to which Marian gave a curt nod.

"Well, before he was blowing up Chantries and starting global war, he was just a Healer operating out of a shack in the darkest slum Kirkwall had to offer. He healed people for free, the weak refugees who lived on the streets…and in his spare time he assisted me and my brother on all sorts of quests and jobs. He was a good man…but he made one very wrong decision when he was younger. He served under my cousin Aiden's command for a short time after the Blight and it was during this that he met a Spirit of Justice. During a great battle, the corpse which Justice inhabited was destroyed and the Spirit was in danger of 'dying', if Spirits can die that is…Anders took Justice into his own body as a way to help, but the Spirit transformed once it was inside him. It became Vengeance, and one day it stole Ander's mind and…I lost him. He was killed during the final battle for Kirkwall."

At that Krem could only stare, "I…I have no idea how to respond to that," the shy man whispered with a concerned look moving into his gentle eyes.

"It's okay, I don't think there really is a way to respond to that…I don't even know how to respond to my own brother being dumped three different times by the same guy," the warrior added with a tentative smile. "I guess it's my convoluted way of saying 'here's my damage'…since you know I like already sort of drunkenly spit some of it on you…and now I'm doing it in the middle of a very nice gesture from you…Maker I'm so fucking bad at this," Marian groaned a moment before she submerged herself beneath the surface of the water.

She re-emerged and gasped a hearty fresh breath of air then sighed loudly. "I'm sorry for being all depressing and odd…I'm just so sick of…"

"No, stop, it's okay. I'm happy you feel like you can talk to me. Even if I do not have any words to soothe your pain, I will listen, and you do not have to worry abou' me being bothered by what you have to tell…to be honest I would like to know more about you. And trust me I _know_ life isn't always roses and sunshine. In fact some of the best people I have ever known have lives built from burned down aspirations and shit they never deserved. So while your situation may be unique, you really aren't alone Marian."

The warrior woman stared at him as if he had just grown a second head, then ever so slowly a real smile spread across her lips. "I'm going to get out now," she said quietly and immediately Krem spun himself back around to face the tunnel. He listened in silence as Marian dried herself off and slipped back into her clothing as he finished cleaning the final piece of her armor. "Would you like to accompany me to my room? I would like to change into some clean clothes then…perhaps you and I could share some more time together? I…I like you Krem. You are unusually easy for me to talk to…I too would like to learn more about you."

* * *

It was perhaps three in the morning when Garrett finally left Dorian to return to his own chambers, but the big mage realized that he was simply too full of good feelings to let himself fall to sleep just yet. He quietly made his way through the predominantly sleeping keep and out into the moonlight bathed courtyard. He froze when he reached the bottom of the tall staircase leading up into the castle, his eyes falling onto the back of his sister standing near a low wall. Her back was to him, and her eyes fixated on the high pale orb hanging in the starry sky above her. Then as if she could sense her sibling, she turned her head and sent her brother a smile.

"When did you get back," Garrett asked as he moved to stand at his sister's side.

"A few hours ago, we were able to retake the keep as Leliana demanded."

"You sound thrilled about that," the big mage said with a chuckle, "I would have thought you would be celebrating until the sun came up?"

"Yeah well, I guess my age is finally catching up to me…what are you doing up at this hour? I know you weren't celebrating," the warrior inhaled deeply, and then cocked one eyebrow, "but unless I'm mistaken I do smell wine on your breath."

"I had an impromptu date with Dorian. We started talking about mage's rights in Tevinter as opposed to here in Ferelden and well, we may have gotten a little carried away."

"I'll say," Marian retorted with a heartfelt laugh. "You really like him don't you?"

"I do," the hulking mage said with another wide smile.

"Don't take this the wrong way little brother but, you seem happier now than you ever did with Fenris." At that Garrett shrugged.

"Dorian is much more light-hearted. I still do not hold Fenris' 'broodiness' against him, he had good reasons Mar to be so bitter. But like Anders, he let something consume him…if Dorian has any skeletons in his closet, he hides them well."

"Everyone has something dark lurking around in their past, and I'm sure that when you find Dorian's you will be just fine." That brought big man up short.

"Are you sick Mar, what's going on?"

"I'm tired Garrett. I'm so tired of being sad and hurting, but I can see now that it's not just going to go away. And that's okay…I've been talking to Krem a bit…"

"Bull's Lieutenant? From what Varric has told me, the man can't take his eyes off you." Marian blushed and roughly cleared her throat.

"Yes…well…he is very kind and I…I told him about Anders, and it felt…it was nice to talk about it…I'm done Garrett. I'm sorry you've been putting up with me being so down and out, especially when you were not unharmed yourself by what happened. I promise you, I'm going to make it better. I'm not ready to give up on happiness just yet. It's going to get better."


	12. Chapter 12: That Escalated Quickly

It had nearly been two months since Aiden Amell had left, and Tara was beginning to become worried. She and the former Warden Commander had met with Morrigan in a secluded cabin on the ship carrying them back from Orlais. It had been at both mages' request which had come as a relative surprise to the Inquisitor. Morrigan had something to tell her, and Aiden was demanding to know what it was.

During their impromptu meeting the witch had revealed that she thought she knew where the Grey Wardens had gone, and had an equally disturbing theory as to why. A theory that Aiden was able to lend merit to as he confirmed that he had been experiencing terrible nightmares about the Warden's Calling.

Tara had immediately suggested that Aiden return to the Ferelden capitol of Denerim in order to check on the royal couple, who were also Wardens, and then bring them to Skyhold. In his absence she had been attempting to make strategic moves to uncover the whereabouts of any other remaining Wardens, but had thus far been unsuccessful. She groaned and rubbed at her eyes as the map before her began to blur at the edges. At least Leliana had been successful in her attempts to strengthen the Inquisition's reach. Using Marian Hawke as a primary commander had also proved to be immensely productive. The woman was truly a battering ram in human form.

The petite rogue let out another groan as her nearly constant dull headache bloomed into a throbbing jab. "Screw it," she muttered to herself as she backed away from the war table and gathered her things. She made her way into the main hall of the Keep, rubbing at her temples as she went. Suddenly a soothing coolness settled over her mind and she staggered to halt, tilted her head back, shut her eyes, and simply allowed the sensation to wash away her pain.

"Better," a low voice asked.

"Much better," Tara said as she turned to cast a thankful smile at Garrett Hawke. The towering mage grinned back down at her as he came to stand at her side, "I have not spoken to you since that day on the ramparts. I take it things are going well? I see you and Dorian together more and more," she added with a wink. Garrett cleared his throat loudly.

"Yes. He is fine company indeed. A very intelligent and interesting individual…thank you for talking me into speaking with him that day. I'm still not entirely certain what was bogging him down into his self-appointed solitary confinement, but for now it seems to be in the past."

"I am very happy to hear that!"

"So…while we are on the topic of love-interests, do you feel like filling me in on you and Cullen? He and I had a few run-ins while we were both citizens of Kirkwall. He was always a noble man, and quite dashing!"

"He is that," Tara concurred with a blush. "We have never had much time to ourselves, and when we do we usually find ourselves discussing business…it is not exactly what I would have expected, but considering who we are and what we are trying to accomplish, I really should just be grateful that the two of us are still alive and that we have any time for each other at all."

"This won't last forever you know," Garrett said quietly a hand coming to rest on the petite woman's shoulder. "At least I hope not…we will figure it all out, I'm sure of it. My sister is even insisting that there is a brilliant sunrise on that horizon. When this business with Corypheus and the Red Templars and…well, when it's all done and buried, you and Cullen will…"

"RIDERS APPROACHING!"

Tara and Garrett both instantly jogged to the doorway of the Keep and stared at the front gates as the sound of hoof beats grew louder and louder. Suddenly a familiar voice shouted, "Raise the gate!"

"That's Aiden," the big mage said surprised. "I wondered where he had gone…"

"He was running an errand for me," the rogue interjected. "Garrett will you please go find your sister and meet me in the war room?"

"Sure…I take it there will be some form of explanation?"

Morrigan's could not control her breath or her racing heart as she approached the war room. It had been years since she had last seen either Alistair or Serena, never mind that Aiden had most likely already explained that _she_ would be at Skyhold when they arrived. A great part of her was merely happy that the two Ferelden royals had managed to escape Corypheus' grasp. The other part of her was terrified to be in the same room as her former companions.

It was hard enough that she had been made to face not only Zevran but also Aiden at the Winter Palace. She had somehow maintained her composure, but it had been no easy task. Looking in the face of a man she had once called friend, seeing those black eyes filled with loathing for her very existence. And even worse was the burning knowledge that she might have damaged Aiden's relationship with the man he loved by having him partake in the Ritual with her.

Now she was about to enter a room that also housed Aiden's informally adoptive sister, who was not only the queen of Ferelden, but one of the most violently effective rogues she had ever met. And, the woman _despised_ her.

The cat-eyed witch took one last deep breath to steel herself. This was an inevitable encounter that was in all truth long overdue. Morrigan then pushed the door open and entered the room beyond her head held high.

Instantly several sets of eyes moved to fall upon her. She nodded as her own gaze collided squarely with Serena Cousland-Thierin's own pale silver-blue one. Ice flooded the witch's spine, but she managed to suppress her shiver as she bowed lightly towards the royal couple. "Your Majesties."

"Morrigan," Alistair responded with an acknowledging nod of his own.

"What do you know," Serena snapped her own tone as friendly as a razor's edge. "Aiden filled myself and Alistair in on our way here, what else do you know."

"Um…not to be _that_ guy your Highness," Garrett interjected with a polite bow to his cousin's sister, "but…Marian and I still have no idea why we are here."

"Nor do I," Cullen added as he shot Tara an almost subtle questioning look.

"Perhaps I should be the first to explain," the petite Inquisitor said stepping forward from the midst of her advisors. "I was given a report from Leliana some time ago that hinted at Darkspawn movement in the Western Approach, but the area where our people needed to go was inaccessible due to poisonous gases leaking from the earth. The vents which produced the gas have since been dealt with, but before that operation was completed Morrigan came to me after we had left Orlais. She informed me that the resurgence of Darkspawn was possibly tied to the disappearances of the Grey Wardens, something that I have been trying to look into through my… _agent_."

"The nightmares we have been having as of late," Aiden smoothly interjected, when Tara faltered, "Morrigan believes that they are being triggered by Corypheus. He is trying to make every Grey Warden believe that the time of their Calling has come and lure them away to…well I'm assuming to be killed."

"…or something else," Marian said darkly as she and her brother shared a terrified look.

"Something we've seen before," the big mage said as he ran a hand back through his hair. "When we faced Corypheus in the Free-Marches we had…we had a former Grey Warden with us, and he went crazy when we got close to the center of the ruins. He kept saying that the voices were too strong for him before that…"

"It might be the same thing. Corypheus is trying to take over the minds of the Grey Wardens…if he succeeds he will not only have recuperated the numbers he lost at Haven, but he could also take away any chance we have of defeating his pet Arch Demon."

"They may not all be dead though, which means we have a chance at finding them and saving them," the copper haired monarch said as she moved her eyes over the map of the Western Approach.

"There used to be a fortress out there," Aiden murmured as he too bent beside Serena, one finger tracing over the map. "It was built by the Dwarves, and in habited by Wardens, though that was a long time ago…so there's your tie to the Deep Roads and Darkspawn."

"It is where we must go…though if the Grey Wardens are not dead but simply enthralled we shall need to go in force."

"Wait… _we_? Serena there can be no _we_ , as in you coming," Aiden hastily corrected.

"And when in the name of the Maker did you start ordering around the Queen of Ferelden?"

"No, I agree that it is too risky for both members of the Crown to go," Tara then said drawing the other rogue's sharp gaze. "You will be needed here, especially if we fail. You led Ferelden against the fifth Blight and were victorious, and you are monarchy. If either of you were to die Ferelden could face civil war on top of everything else. I will not risk it." For a moment Tara braced, preparing herself to face the imposing looking Queen's verbal backlash. Instead the copper haired woman let out an inelegant snort.

"Fine. We shall remain here to watch over things while you are away then, and I'll hear no argument about that."

"As you wish your Majesty."

"And for the love of Andraste please, stop calling me that. My name is Serena, and I prefer that my friends refer to me as such. Now, assemble your best."

"We need to get to our men on the battlements! Come on men put your backs into it! We must get that gate open!"

Cullen's shouts rang over the noise of the fighting, striking fear into Tara's already uneasy heart. She had not felt quite right about the siege on Adamant Fortress since it had been arranged. But considering the news that Aiden had brought back from the Ferelden capitol, she knew that it was absolutely necessary. "Garrett, Aiden, Iron Bull! Help them," she shouted to her nearest hulking companions.

The three men all instantly sheathed their weapons and ran full force into the end of the weakly swinging battering ram. Tara returned her attention to raining arrows across the tops of the battlements, trying to give the soldiers climbing the entrenched ladders an opening to ascend. Marian pressed her way forward as rocks flew down all around her from above, slamming into the exposed soldiers below. She reached one of the siege ladders and climbed her way to the top. A grim looking Grey Warden was there to greet her, taking a slash at her head just as it crested the wall. She ducked the blow and heaved herself up over the ledge, kicking her foe over the other side before turning to lay waste to all she could. The fighting was suffocating and frantic, at one point Marian was almost felled when she became tangled up with a body.

She managed to escape with only a glancing blow, but she realized that even luck would not save her and the few others who had breached the wall. "Garrett! We are dying up here!"

The big mage heard the worry in his sister's voice and suddenly shouted at Iron Bull and Aiden to step aside. As the battering ram swung back the big mage raced forward hooking both hands onto the end and heaved a force spell against it, propelling it forward with a resounding splintering smash.

"We're through!"

"Get to the walls," Tara shouted sprinting forward alongside her fellows. Just inside the gate, a firm hand gripped the Inquisitor's arm pulling her to a brief halt. Cullen stared down at her, his lips a firm grim line on his sweat and blood spattered face.

"We will hold off the demons that the Wardens have already summoned. Just get to Commander Clarel and end whatever ritual is going on up there. We will do what we have to, to cover you."

"Do not take risks, keep the men safe. If we fail, pull out."

"We will do what we _have_ to," the blonde said a moment before turning to return to the fray. Tara turned as well and raced after the others.

She found herself falling into step with Aiden, Garrett, Iron Bull, Dorian, and Cassandra as they raced up to the battlements. There they found Marian leading the surviving first wave soldiers in a desperate last stand. The others charged into the fray with blind vengeance, and after a few short minutes of charged battle, the Inquisition forces stood victorious. The auburn haired warrior moved to her brother's side, allowing him to heal her as she nodded her greeting to the others.

"I don't think I've ever been so happy to see any of you before this…it was hell up here."

"We'd best brace ourselves for similar resistance up ahead," Aiden said quietly. "The Grey Wardens are all trained to fight to the death…we are like berserkers, but driven by duty rather than bloodlust."

"Well, good thing you've got your camouflage on," Marian chuckled as she slapped the griffon emblazoned breastplate her cousin was sporting.

"I'm hoping that Serena's suggestion works out the way she planned. She hopes that wearing my old Commander uniform will shake some of the others into remembering what they truly stand for."

"I too hope that her Majesty's suggestion works. I for one will take any help we can get," the petite rogue huffed as she checked her quiver. "Andraste's tits…it took nearly all of my explosive arrows just to get in here…"

"Fear not my dear," Dorian chimed in a strained but merry tone, "I'm sure that we mages remain well equipped to handle any ranged opponents until we _collect_ more arrows for you. The way things are going we'll be home in time for tea!"

"I pray you are right Dorian," Tara said as she shot her friend a brave smile, "I really do."

The group continued on, battling demons and Wardens alike as they carved a bloody path to the center of the fortress. When they finally reached Warden Commander Clarel however, they came upon the scene of a plot far more twisted than any of them could have imagined.


	13. Chapter 13: Siege the Day

Aiden's blood boiled with rage as he watched the woman who commanded the Grey Warden's slit one of her fellow's throats. The big arcane warrior strode forward past Tara, seemingly oblivious to the Wardens who stood all around and the swirling rift in their midst. "Clarel, stop this," he thundered, his voice shaking the death heavy air.

The Commander turned her gaze down upon the big raven haired man and something flickered in the depths of her eyes. The mage at her side sneered down at Aiden, and the arcane warrior's charcoal gaze shifted to glare daggers into the stranger. "I don't know who you are but it is clear that _you_ are no Warden."

"This is Magister Erimond. He came to us offering aid even as the rest of the world forgot us once more," Clarel said passionately.

"The Wardens must fulfill their duty. Yes, it requires blood, hate me for that if you must."

"I'll add it to my list of reasons I am going to take a great deal of _personal_ joy in ripping you limb from limb," Aiden hissed before once more turning his attention to the Commander. "If you complete that ritual Clarel then you are doing exactly what this viper wants you to! He is no friend of yours or mine. He is an agent of Corypheus, and he has blinded you all with fear! If you do this your so called _help_ is going to bind every mage here into Corypheus' service!"

"But…Corypheus is dead…" the Commander whispered in a shocked tone.

"No he is not," Tara called out as she stepped forward. "I lead the Inquisition and I am here to tell you that he is very real. He is what we fight against! You must listen! We need the Wardens with us in this fight! Do not be misled!" The Magister scoffed and moved closer to Clarel's side.

"These people will say anything to shake your confidence Clarel. Do not be swayed, they know that if you stop now it is they who will enslave your Order."

"Bullshit!" Aiden's entire body erupted, a small storm of fire and lightening glancing all around him as he jabbed a finger at the emblem on his chest. "Do you see this! I am former Warden Commander Aiden Amell, and I stand here before you as a testament! I was there during the Fifth Blight! I know what it means to stand alone between the world and the destruction wrought by an Arch Demon! Right now what we face is far worse, a supposed Old God attempting to enslave the world! Do not allow yourself to become an instrument in his attempt!"

Many of the Wardens stared at Aiden, uncertainty sinking into their gazes, a few even moving to stand closer to him than the rest of their fellows. "Do not make me fight my own brothers and sisters Clarel. Some of these brave people I trained myself, I do not wish to see them die by my hand! Clarel, I beg you. You can see the truth can you not? It is not too late to do the right thing!"

The Warden Commander's eyes fell shut, her face a mask of pain and doubt as she dragged a hand across her furrowed brow. Then arm fell back to her side, her eyes steeled as she called out, "Bring it through!"

"No!" Aiden shouted mournfully, his blade of magic exploding forth into his hand as he prepared to charge the stairway leading up to where the Magister and Clarel stood. Some of the Wardens suddenly moved away from the group, to stand at his side as Tara and the others also moved to join him.

"Perhaps…perhaps we could find a way to test these charges without more bloodshed," Commander Clarel suddenly said as she turned to face Erimond.

"Or perhaps I should bring in a more reliable ally," the Magister snapped as he slammed the butt of his staff against the stone beneath him. "After what happened at Haven my Master thought you might come here Inquisitor. He sent me _this_ to welcome you!"

Overhead through the smoke and dust of battle Tara heard the all too familiar shrieking roar of a dragon. The gazes of everyone in the yard turned up to find the beast circling round, as it descended upon them, red lightening crackling in its maw. "Get down men," Aiden shouted as the dragon flew low. The arcane warrior grabbed onto two of the Wardens closest to him and threw them clear of the blast, as red lightening split the stone around them.

Garrett blasted a force spell into the ground an instant before the crackling blast hit, sending everyone near him flying backwards and out of the way. Tara managed to roll back onto her feet and fire off a shot that exploded against the beast's side as it turned away before coming to land on a wall higher up.

Everyone clamored back onto their feet, memories of the chaos Corypheus' pet had caused in Haven flooding their minds as they readied their weapons. "Do you see now Clarel," Aiden thundered as he dragged himself back into a standing position. "This is the evil we face. An Arch Demon bound to a false god! Do not tell me now that you still stand for this!"

The Commander stared at the dragon then slowly backed away from Erimond, her gaze filling with anger. Before the Magister could attempt to sway her once more, the shaven headed mage blasted him with a powerful bolt of lightning, before turning to fire another more potent bolt at the dragon itself.

Enraged, the beast descended on those in the yard again, but this time Aiden was ready. He stood directly in the line of the dragon's fire then blasted a whirling bolt of ice directly into its gaping jaws. It was not a mortal blow, but it did make the creature turn back into the sky high overhead. "Help the Inquisitor," he heard Clarel shouted as she gave chase after Erimond. A moment later the rift in the yard ripped open and demons poured forth from it.

"Wardens to me," Aiden bellowed as he charged forward towards a massive Pride demon. The yard was instantly transformed into a warzone, but Marian found her strength bolstered as she found herself fighting alongside the Wardens against the demon throng. The warrior woman stuck close to Iron Bull, the two of them hacking apart any clustered demons they could find. Garrett's healing aura poured over the group as Dorian held off any attackers that might disrupt his spell. Tara perched upon a railing above the fray, taking bullseye pot shots until she had an opening to close the rift.

"We must get to Clarel," she shouted as soon as the rift had dissipated.

"Hold here," Aiden commanded his fellow Wardens before he and the others joined Tara as the petite rogue moved to follow after Clarel and the Magister.

When they caught up, they found the Warden Commander bombarding Erimond in a duel atop a broken bridge that jutted out over a chasm far below. Aiden's face split into an almost merry grin as he watched the Commander tower over the Magister, her staff crackling with deadly magic.

Just as Clarel lifted a hand to deliver a final blow, suddenly Corypheus' dragon landed in front of the Commander and clamped its jaws down with a bloody snap. "Clarel!" Aiden and the others shot forward, but the dragon leapt away, landing on an upper landing and shaking its head back and forth as half of the Commander's body limply hung from between its teeth before flinging an amazingly still alive Clarel to the stone before them.

"Bloody Blighted shit," Marian huffed as she stood beside Tara facing down the beast as it lumbered slowly forward.

"In war…victory…" Clarel heaved as she managed to roll herself onto her back. Garrett had to hold his cousin back from rushing to try and save his fellow Warden. "In peace vigilance…" The Arch Demon lunged forward and Clarel loosed the cumulative powers she possessed. The dragon screeched in pain as the blast propelled it off the end of the broken bridge. The stone beneath Tara trembled and abruptly buckled.

"Run," she shouted as she shoved Marian into motion. They all clamored to escape the crumbling stone. Tara skidded to stop as she glanced over her shoulder and watched as Aiden hurled Cassandra forward as the ground vanished beneath his feet. The big mage clung to the still disintegrating edge of the bridge and the petite rogue instantly darted back to him, feebly attempting to drag him back up.

"Leave me," he shouted up to her as his left hand slipped.

"Shut up Aiden," Tara roared back as she reached down to grip the edge of the back of his breast plate and heaved with all of her might.

"You heard the lady," a voice thundered from behind the petite rogue. Suddenly a black clad figure slid in beside the Inquisitor and grabbed hold of Aiden's armor. With the stranger's added strength the two managed to haul the wide eyed arcane warrior back to safety. The three then made a mad dash away from the ledge, but the bridge gave out entirely before they had taken more than five steps. Between the falling rock Tara saw glimpses of her companions also spiraling down towards the ground far below.

She stretched out her marked hand and the ground opened up like a giant glowing green eye.

* * *

Tara's head swam as she resurfaced from the depths of unconsciousness. Slowly the muffled ringing in her ears began to become sharper until abruptly she realized that she was listening to gut wrenching screams.

As swiftly as her aching body would allow Tara staggered to her feet looking around frantically for the source of the terrifying sounds. Hazily she realized that she was moving through the halls of Skyhold, but the keep was…different. Something seemed wrong. All around her the very stone seemed to thrum with a low red gleam. As she moved out into the throne room she stumbled to a halt, her eyes widening as a scream of her own ripped from her lips.

"Cullen!"

The lanky blonde sat casually upon the Inquisitor's seat, his eyes shimmering in the pulsing light of the red lyrium crystals that protruded from his squared shoulders. On the ground before the Commander laid the mangled bodies of Morrigan, Vivienne, Garrett, Dorian, Aiden, and Solas. Amidst the wet blood on his hands and knees in chains was a still living Cole. The boy's small back shivered and small whimpers of pain and fear spilled pitifully from his mouth. On either side of him stood two Templars, their already bloody swords casually held at the ready.

Tara watched in stunned disbelief as the tall blonde man raised his right arm and loudly proclaimed, "I declare that this _thing_ shall be put to death just as the abominations before _it_. Templars!"

With a desperate cry Tara raced forward, but her every step took an eternity. Cole screamed his eyes wide and desperate. Then the Templar's sword arched downward, and the boy's severed head fell to the floor with a dull moist thump.

The Inquisitor stumbled and fell to her knees just a few feet short of Cole's body, which Cullen carelessly kicked aside. His gaze moved down to stare at Tara with hardened soulless eyes.s

He was enthralled.

The Cullen she had known was gone…he had _murdered_ their friends, one of whom had been a helpless child! This was her fault. She had insisted on taking the Templars in, even knowing how easily they had been overtaken by the poisoned lyrium. She had believed in them, because she had believed in Cullen. Despite the protests of Solas, and the gentle skepticism of Garrett and Marian who had seen the damage that could be done by the Order first hand.

"Why…" she asked softly. "Why would you do this…I thought…"

"Why? Because you were too weak to do what had to be done. The real threat to this world is magic and Corypheus is the proof of that. And you in all of your stupidity allowed more dangerous weak minded mages to infest the Inquisition. You would have led the Inquisition to ruin, but I know what must be done. My mind grows clearer with every draught of lyrium I take…"

Suddenly the doors at the other end of the room burst open from behind the stunned Tara and before she could even turn her head to see who now intruded, a knife embedded itself deeply between Cullen's eyes. "Cullen," the petite rogue screamed as she shot to her feet her hands finding her bow and notching an arrow as she whirled to find herself facing the black-clad stranger from…from, a bridge?

Tara shook her head as her mind reeled trying to grasp onto a thought that remained just beyond her reach.

"Hold Inquisitor," the stranger said raising their hands as they slowly walked towards her. "Take a deep breath. Do you remember falling? Do you remember opening that Rift? We are currently in the Fade and none of this is real." The petite rogue turned to look down at the bodies of her slaughtered companions, Cole's eyes haunting her with their stillness.

"…What do you mean this is not real…who are you?"

The stranger paused and reached up to pull away the hood that hid their face from view. A copper braid fell free as Serena Cousland-Thierin's familiar face was revealed to the shocked Tara.

"Your Majesty!? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Skyhold!"

"Yes yes," Serena said waving a gently dismissive hand as she passed Tara to rip her other blade unceremoniously from the false-Cullen's corpse. "But you see Alistair and I thought that you might be in need of us even though you protested quite expertly against the notion of our company. After all we _are_ Grey Wardens, so this business here is really much more our fight than it is yours."

"Alistair is here as well!?"

"Well not here, Maker be praised, my dear husband did not handle the Fade so well the last time we were trapped here. He is presently masquerading as a soldier in your Commander's ranks safely back in the realm of the living."

"…I mean no disrespect, but you are much too calm about this."

"I have seen many things Tara and nowadays I try not to panic until it is convenient to do so, and right now it is not the time for such antics. Aiden has also been trapped in the Fade like this before so he will hopefully also be attempting to break free of this demon's chains. Your other companions, including the Hawkes, may not be faring as well as I doubt that they will be able to grasp that this is all currently just a nightmare and not in fact reality. We must find them and rescue them before this demon is able to break them and gain control over them. It will take a great deal of focus and you must prepare yourself to see your friend's darkest fears come to life."

"Maker preserve us," Tara said as she took a deep breath. "Alright, this is _not_ real, I can do this. We have to save the others…before we go may I ask you something?"

"Certainly," Serena said as she paused near the gateway leading from Tara's nightmare.

"What…when you awoke, what nightmare did you see?"

"I woke up to Morrigan standing over me. She had cast a paralysis spell over me, and I believe she was going to kill me. I did not look around the scene too much, but I am sure if I had I would have also seen my husband or brother, possibly both, already dead."

"What did you do?"

"I knew pretty much from the moment I awoke, where I really was…so I did the one thing I can do here that I am unable to do outside of the Fade. I leapt on top of the Witch and beat her beautiful face against the ground until her skull caved."

Tara nodded silently as she fell into step with the otherwise very pleasant and seemingly gentle monarch and the two moved out into the bowels of the nightmare.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I realize that this is NOT how things go in the game. One thing I really missed in Inquisition that happened to be one of my favorite things in Origins is the demon nightmare web you get to experience in the Circle Tower. So I'm taking artistic liberties and that's what Tara and troupe will be dealing with in this fic. As always, thank you for reading! I hope you continue to enjoy!**


	14. Chapter 14: I'm So Sorry

**Author's Note: I do not know how to speak or write in latin, so google translated latin is what you get, with no English** **accompaniment. Terrible of me I know. However the demon summoning spell another fanbase might catch on to. And as always enjoy my dear readers!**

 _"Veniunt ad me ut arousal est a tauro. Servat me sicut canis oritur. Quasi leo in adventu pertinax. Quasi lupi plena furoris. Mane! Mitto tibi quasi limen. Ego autem quasi tenues per ostium. Span sicut et vos a foris. Et revertatur a labo tuo adventu. Ejiciam furoris tui!"_

Dorian awoke just as unfamiliar magic flooded his body. His every nerve and synapse was seared the pain driving out everything until his world was nothing but the white hot blinding sensation.

Abruptly the magic left him and the tanned mage sagged loosely in his chains. He panted for breath, trying to gather his wits as the sound of footsteps drew closer and closer. He remembered Tara. He remembered falling, and then…then…nothing.

"Dorian Pavus, the long lost son, almost home. Almost _whole_." The mage fought to raise his head, his gaze coming into focus on a somewhat familiar face, a magister, an acquaintance of his father's but one's whose name escaped his foggy memory.

"What are you doing to me," Dorian asked as he tested the strength of his bonds. The hardened magical suppressing manacles dug deeply into the flesh of his wrists, small strands of blood dripping down his bare arms.

"I am to finish what your father began." At that the hair at the back of Dorian's neck stood on end and ice settled into his spine. He licked his cracked dry lips and shook his head.

"My father _failed_ when he tried to change me…it cannot be done. All you may accomplish is my death or permanent damage to my mind. What's more, I know people, I have _friends_ who _will_ come for me."

"Do you mean the Inquisitor?" The magister's laugh echoed around the dark room. "Corypheus lays siege to Skyhold as we speak. His victory is certain, and you shall have no one to rescue you, but be proud Dorian. Once I am done with you, you shall become a respectable part of a new era. The era of Magisters."

The black haired mage's heart thundered in his ears, he felt ill. The thought of Tara, Cullen, Iron Bull…all of them fighting to the death, and he, chained here. Unable to help…Garrett! "I don't believe you," Dorian said as firmly as he could manage. "The Inquisition will not fail so easily, especially to a _joke_ of a god like Corypheus. The Inquisitor is more powerful than you could ever imagine and once _she_ is finished with _him_ , she and others like her will rain retribution upon Tevinter itself. Such is the metal of my _friends_!"

…"You really believe this boy? Perhaps I should give you more concrete proof. When you all fell in Adamant your lives were spared by the Inquisitor's foolhardy attempt. But we were also there, me and my own army of Venatori. I gave your friends the option of being obliterated on the spot, or turn you over to me. The general, what was his name…Rutherford, agreed to my terms while your _Inquisitor_ lay on death's door as did the majority of their force. There was however one who would not allow you to go. I am sure you already know who he was."

 _Was?_

"If you mean Garrett Hawke, then you know he is the Champion of Kirkwall and not one to be treated lightly."

"Oh I would never treat an uninvited guest _lightly_. He made quite show when he arrived here, your _lover_. He was like a mad dog, and like all mad beasts, he was put down." The magister took a small step back from Dorian and waved a hand out towards the darkness. Light emitted from his outstretched limb bled over the glyph etched stone until it met a pool of darkened blood. The tanned mage began to shake in his chains as the light moved further until it illuminated the face down prone figure of Garrett Hawke.

"No…no," Dorian cried as tears welled in his eyes.

"Oh hush now. I am not so heartless that I would not allow you to feel bonded to this whelp one last time. It is his blood that I shall use to summon the demon that will change your abhorrent _nature_." The magister then held out his hands, drawing Hawke's blood away from his corpse, filling the grooves of the glyph beneath Dorian as he chanted. " _Attenrobendum eos, ad ligandum eos, potiter eos, coram me_!"

The stone before Dorian bubbled as a Desire demon rose to its calling. Carmel eyes bore into the mage's as the magister then began to incite his spell once more. The demon lifted a claw to prick the skin over Dorian's heart, and instantly his flesh began to give way as another binding glyph carved into his very flesh.

 _No…no, this could not be real. It couldn't be!_

"Garrett! Garrett!" The demon shifted closer to him, until he could smell the brimstone of its flesh over his own burning skin.

"DORIAN!" Brilliant blue light erupted all around Dorian just as he felt himself sinking into unconsciousness. The suppressive smell of fire dissipated as did everything else in the mage's sight.

He knew this magic, this beautiful gentle magic. His bonds vanished and the next thing Dorian knew he was enveloped by a set of thickly muscled arms, inhaling the warm scent of Garrett Hawke's sweat stained robes as they pressed against his face. He clung to the fabric beneath his hands, fighting back tears and sobs that threatened to rip free of him. Suddenly a hand was at the back of his head, lifting his face upwards. His eyes met with the fierce blue gaze of Garrett Hawke a moment before the big mage kissed him.

It was not the world's most sensual interlude, but it anchored Dorian to reality. The hulking mage was alive. He was here, and no one was going to perform a ritual on him.

"Maker is he alright," the equally familiar voice of Marian asked from a little ways away.

"I-I don't know, Dorian? Dorian? I'm here, Mar and I are here. You were trapped in a nightmare."

"Venhedis…" The tanned mage remained leaned against Garrett's solid form as he peered beneath his shirt with shaking hands. The flesh over his heart was scar free. Relieved Dorian let out a violent sigh and wrapped his arms around the big Ferelden's torso. "I am alright, and you are _alive_."

"Sodding demons," Marian grumbled as she moved over to the two men. "It's always _your loved ones are dead_ or _your loved ones are going to kill you_." The warrior woman sank down and to Dorian's surprise she smiled softly at him and reached out to stroke his hair. "It's okay now. Just take a minute to breath."

"Where is Tara, your cousin, Cassandra?"

"We haven't seen anyone else just yet, but it's very possible that they are simply stuck elsewhere in the nightmare," Marian said her fingers moving in soothing circles against Dorian's scalp.

"We have to find them…free them," Dorian said firmly.

"And we will," Garrett retorted as he gripped Dorian's right hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Let's just rest for a bit first. They will be alright. We will find them…"

"Hawke? Hawke, is that you?" The low voice of Iron Bull made the trio left their gazes in disbelief. From the top of a rocky slope not too far off, the big Qunari waved at them a smile splitting his face. He turned to call out over his shoulder that he had found them, and the next moment Tara, Aiden, and the others were all rushing down the hill towards them. Marian moved to clasp her tall cousin in a brief hug as Garrett helped Dorian to his feet.

"Maker, Serena?" Aiden nodded as he shot a glare at his adoptive sister.

"She snuck in after us…though I must admit it is nice having her here. We have…there's a lot of shit we've seen since we ended up here…it..it was the Grey Wardens who were responsible for the Divine's death." Tara echoed the massive arcane-warrior's nod sadly.

"He had taken the minds of those Wardens even before the Breach, they were mere pawns," the petite rogue said softly as she rested a hand on Aiden's shoulder. "We know what happened at the Conclave…and, there is a spirit that has told us the way out of here…but I shall explain more once we are free of this place. We have to find remnants of the rift that the Wardens opened at Adamant and once we are through it will close once and for all. It will be at the center of this demon's domain however, so we'd best prepare for a hefty battle ahead."

* * *

It was a bloody blur as they fought their way to the Nightmare demon's core. They found themselves being led by the Spirit Tara had mentioned earlier, but still by the time they reached the center of the nightmare realm everyone was wearing thin. Every demon they encountered was a fear they held in their hearts. Garrett combated it all with good humor, Aiden with sarcasm, and Serena with a remarkably still tender touch.

In the end the Spirit sacrificed itself to buy them time as the group turned to face the Aspect of the Nightmare.

It was a close call, but then the creature fell and the desperate group broke away towards the rift. Dorian was right behind Aiden as they charged up the rocky stairs before the rift, when suddenly something wrapped around the mage's left ankle. He was pulled off of his feet and dragged back across the hard ground. He twisted around and let out a shocked cry as he found the massive Nightmare spider pulling him towards its fang ridden maw. He heard Garrett shout his name.

From her place on the stairs Marian ripped her sword free of its sheath and swung her gaze to collide with Iron Bull's. She pulled the Qunari down, whispering something to him before charging back down towards the flailing Dorian.

Then she was there at the Tevinter man's side, her sword severing the web that held him before the auburn haired warrior turned her blade to deflect the spider's bite as it came down upon them. She struck back with the force of a warrior twice her size, breaking off a piece of the beasts fang, miraculously driving it back away from Dorian and the others still frantically paused on the stairs. "Go," she shouted without looking back as she committed herself to engaging the creature while the other escaped.

Dorian clamored to his feet, launching a spell at the spider, unwilling to simply allow Garrett's sister to sacrifice herself like this. Then a large hand pulled him back, and Dorian found himself looking up at a grim Garrett. The hulking mage smiled sadly as he said, "This Inquisition is the hope I have believed in…and you were the dream I have been waiting to come true. I'm sorry Dorian." With that said the big man pressed a tender kiss to the tanned mage's lips. Then he stepped back and before anyone could move to stop him, Garrett blasted the group with a force spell.

Dorian screamed Hawke's name, his eyes never leaving the big mage's until he passed through the rift.

* * *

Every long evening they had spent together. All those wasted weeks of uncertainty. Those few precious kisses, those moments of unexpected tenderness, and the promise of more to come…in the blink of an eye it was all gone.

Aiden's cries of enraged sorrow had rung out into the night. Cassandra's face had become drenched by her tears. Dorian had felt the same, but had stood numbly in silence staring at the empty air where the rift had once been. He knew that if he let even a single tear loose, it would rip him apart. So he did nothing, and said nothing, and for a little longer he held himself together.

The Grey Wardens were brought into the Inquisition as a temporary measure until a new commander could be found for them. It was Serena's suggestion that Tara had agreed to with feverish haste. She could not make such decisions at the moment, and the gentle monarch knew this. She acted as Tara's voice, making small suggestions and allowing the younger woman to dully agree or reject each proposal. Other than this fostered leadership Tara hid herself away from everyone including Cullen.

It took them a little over a week to return to Skyhold. When they did the force was met with joyous celebration, but Tara ducked her head and pressed on to the Keep with only the smallest of smiles for her people. It was not good, but it was all she could do to not start screaming.

Aiden had composed himself in the past few days, resigning himself to the fact that his young cousins were both gone. He could not change this, so he needed to start looking forward once more. He kissed Zevran upon his return, and then boldly boasted his intent to reclaim his old standing as the Grey Warden Commander. This news effectively turned the tide of attention away from Tara, for which she was grateful.

Dorian followed after the Inquisitor as she braced herself to inform Varric of what had happened. Iron Bull had quietly excused himself from the group so that he could seek out Krem to tell him the news as well.

The two entered the main hall and immediately Varric approached them a wide grin on his face.

"The news of your success traveled quickly! Well done Inquisitor!"

When Tara offered no answering smile, the dwarf's own mood faltered. His gaze moved from the petite rogue before him to the defeated gaze of Dorian. Slowly he took in the fact that Marian and Garrett were absent from the scene and the blood drained from his face.

"Tara…where are the Hawkes?" Instantly the slight woman fell to her knees before her friend, tears spilling down her face as she shook her head.

"Varric, I'm so sorry…they…we were in the Fade and there was this massive demon…they sacrificed themselves so that the rest of us could escape…I'm so sorry!" The storyteller stood so still, it was as if he had turned to stone. Then his squared shoulders shook as his face crumpled and Tara could no longer remain motionless. She reached out and pulled Varric into a fierce hug.

After a few long minutes Varric pulled away, shaking his head something unspoken in his eyes. "I…I'll have to write the others…but right now…" the dwarf shook his head once more, "I just want to get drunk."

"Why don't you accompany me to the Herald's Rest Varric," Dorian offered quietly. "I would appreciate the company right now…"

 _The company of someone who knew Garrett_.

The dwarf took a few deep breaths and patted Tara's hand, "You go get some rest, Sparkler…let's go."


	15. Chapter 15: Blind Hope, Blinding Panic

**Author's Note: You my dear readers are all beautiful resilient people. Thank you.**

Tara had gone to her room as Dorian suggested and tried to lay down for a nap. Her thoughts however would not allow her to rest. So she got up and ordered a bath, but even the allure of the hot comforting water could not help her to relax in the slightest. She redressed and tried to look over a few reports, but the words faded from her mind almost as soon as she began to read them. Her gaze kept returning to the mark as she replayed the events of the Fade over and over again. She sighed and pulled open the drawer in which she kept a small bottle of vodka and took a long pull hoping to dull the feeling of unease. Before she'd even realized it the bottle lay empty and she _still_ could not calm down. She stood and began to pace the room her heart rate rising until it blended with her thoughts and became a frantic frenzy.

It was her responsibility to fix this mess, her duty to lead these people to victory. And she no longer knew if she could. The Hawkes, they had seen something in her and look what it had done to them. Varric had been her friend and she had allowed his dearest companions to die. Cassandra had held such faith in her…and it had been a lie.

It should have been her.

She had the blasted mark, the true power to combat the evils that Corypheus had loosed upon the world.

Yet _she_ had remained frozen on those steps, watching, as two real heroes died in _her_ place.

Just as the Divine had died.

How many more people would perish because of her incompetence?

The Cullen from her nightmare prison loomed from the shadowy corners of her mind, taunting her. What if she was making all of the wrong decisions?

She was not meant for this!

She had been a paltry noblewoman who ran away from her duty in Ostwick. She had been a selfish child, longing to find love and a place in the world on her own terms far away from _the game_. She was not Serena, she was not Marian, she was not Aiden, and she was certainly not Garrett. All of these people had faced such incredible hardship, stared down evil as if they were born to do so…she was not like them. She was a coward. A stupid, sniveling, inept coward. And she had been lying to everyone including herself, pretending she was something more.

Tara's heart jolted in her chest, pain coursing through her body in such an unexpected wave that she was sent staggering into a nearby wall. Maker, was she dying? Was this the doing of the mark or something else?

Whatever it was she needed help, as the seconds ticked by it got worse.

After allowing herself to wallow in this newfound misery for a few more long minutes Tara finally swallowed a portion of her uncertainty and resolved to go find Cullen. Quietly she slipped from her room and made her way across the battlements to his office and knocked on the door. For a moment she wondered if perhaps he was not there, or even simply not answering too busy with work, then she heard his voice call out, "Come in."

Shaky with gratitude Tara pushed the door open.

The petite rogue paused in the doorway, her eyes taking in the sight of Cullen bent over his desk, a kit of lyrium open on its surface before him. Tara's pulse suddenly dropped so abruptly that she thought she was going to lose consciousness, but she fought against it. "What are you doing," she heard herself ask softly.

"The withdrawals have been becoming worse…during the battle for Adamant I could have done so much more if I were still taking it, all of those demons…I could have done _more_. I should be taking it…what do you think?" His eyes settled on her then and they widened. "You are pale…Are you alright?"

Cullen's first question cut something open inside of Tara.

"Am I alright…am I _alright_!?" The small brunette's voice rose to a shout as she slammed the door to Cullen's office shut behind her. "No! No Cullen I am not alright! I have no idea what in the fucking hell I am doing here? None, I have no idea what I am supposed to do. I ended up here by some cosmic joke and _I_ am somehow still the one who is supposed to determine who is trustworthy in this world!" Tara stalked forward jabbing a finger at her own chest, raving as Cullen watched in stunned silence.

"It is _me_ who is expected to be composed and stagnant in my resolve at all times! I have this damnable _mark_ carved into my body that is _killing_ me, and that I could handle, if I were able to use it to any bloody effect when it really fucking mattered! And now _you_ are asking _me_ to decide whether or not _you_ should resume taking the very thing that will destroy your body and mind as surely as this," she screamed pointing at her green glowing palm, "will kill me!"

Suddenly the petite woman hooked her hands beneath the lip of Cullen's desk and with one mighty heave upset the entire piece of furniture. Papers fluttered around her as she slammed a foot down upon the vial of lyrium shattering it. "You have a choice! I have _none_ , so I am the wrong person to ask whether or not you should willingly submit yourself to something that will destroy you just because there is a chance that it _might_ be helpful! Do you understand that watching you waste away and become a slave to lyrium is the last thing I want!? It would kill me to lose you like that!"

Tara opened her mouth to say more but the words came out as a strangled whimper as her heart slammed in her chest. She staggered back as the air around her became a roar in her ears. Her stomach heaved violently inside her and she turned to race outside. She fell against the wall of the battlements and emptied her stomach of its contents so forcefully that she could not breathe. Once that was done she sank down to the cold stone, fighting to merely regain her breath.

"Inquisitor…Maker's breath, Tara, do you need a healer," Cullen asked as he sank down beside her, a hand floating just above her shoulder. She let out a shaky laugh as tears began falling from her eyes.

Of course he would refrain from touching her when she needed that comfort most. Always a man of duty and decorum, at that moment she hated his restraint. Could he not see that she was falling apart? That right now she needed someone to hold _her_ together. Though she'd be damned if she was going to actually _tell_ that to anyone, even him.

"I should go," she said weakly as she attempted to gain her feet.

"No." Suddenly the Commander's hands hefted Tara's small frame upwards and into his lap as he shifted to lean himself back against the wall. Stunned the Inquisitor stiffened until Cullen reached up to press her cheek down against his shoulder. "You should stay right here until this panic attack of yours dissipates. If you try and leave right now you could send yourself into a false cardiac arrest. You probably wouldn't die from it, but you could black out and hit your head on something. I won't allow it, now, just breath for a bit Tara. I've got you."

The minutes ticked by and to Tara's great relief her heart began to quell its thundering pace. She snuggled herself more fully against Cullen, relishing the feeling of his own chest rising and falling steadily beneath her. Eventually the rhythm began to put her to sleep.

"Better?"

"Hm…oh yes…much better…I, I'm sorry Cullen. I turned into a lunatic," Tara's words were accompanied by a fierce flush of embarrassment.

"I disagree. You were overwhelmed and I was not very helpful when you first appeared."

"I still should not have yelled at you like that…"

"I'm rather glad you did." At that Tara sat back and sent Cullen an uncertain look which caused the Commander to let out a low chuckle. "Now I'm not saying that you should make a _habit_ of it, but you said some very true things about my lyrium addiction. Thank you. That brutal honesty was just the kick I required."

"I really do not want to lose you like that," the petite rogue blurted out after a small silence had passed. "I…I care about you Cullen…while I was in the fade I was trapped in a nightmare created by one of Corypheus' demons. You were there…you had taken red lyrium…"

"Would you like to come back inside? We could talk more and we won't have to worry about the night watch stumbling upon us and interrupting?"

"Okay." Tara moved to regain her feet but Cullen beat her to the punch, standing up with her still held in his strong arms. She blushed as she flung her arms around his neck, the moon shining in his eyes as he gave her a small grin. Her eyes fell to the scar that bit into his upper lip and her tongue flicked out to wet the seam of her own lips. It had been so long since they had kissed. So long since she had laid her worries at his feet. "I am sorry that you caught me in such a moment of weakness tonight, but I swear to you Tara I would _never_ allow myself to take red lyrium."

"You do not have to apologize, and I do _know_ that you would not take red lyrium. I just…in the nightmare, for a while I did not _know_ that it was simply a manipulation of my fears. I thought it was real…and then the Hawkes…and…" More tears flooded Tara's gaze and she bit her lower lip fighting to maintain her grip on her composure.

Cullen leaned his face forward and caught the rogue off guard with his kiss. "You can cry and talk to me as long as you need to Tara. Do not fear, I can shoulder these things for you. I will _not_ fail, and neither will you."

* * *

"So…I've been thinking…"

Dorian started slightly when Varric spoke. For the past few hours the dwarf had been utterly silent company, not that the Tevinter mage minded. They had both been lost in their own thoughts, content to drown themselves in their drinks. The dark haired man set aside his glass and patiently waited for the dwarf to continue, intrigued by the stubborn tone of his voice.

"The thing about the Hawkes is…they don't just _die_. I know how that must sound, but they just _don't_. I've known them both a long time and…did you see them fall? Did you watch them die in the Fade?" Though Varric's words tore at Dorian's heart, the mage steadied himself before shaking his head.

"No. Garrett used a force spell to send us all through the rift. The last time I saw…the last time any of us saw them, they were both standing. Fighting."

"Again I know this sounds crazy but…I just can't believe that they are dead, and not just because I'm in shock or some shit. I really _don't_ believe it. I think they could still be alive. Still in the fade somewhere."

"Varric, I saw the demon. It was huge. It could have killed every last one of us, and it probably would have if we had not been thrown out of harm's way…"

"No, listen Sparkler. I know I'm a bit sotted, but you have to hear me out…I have seen…I watched Garrett _try_ to die once." That brought Dorian up short, a heart wrenching chill shot through him as he stared at Varric who nodded solemnly. "I did. He had just watched his mother die…she was kidnapped, dismembered, and brought back to life because this crazy ass blood mage thought she had the same face as his dead wife. When we killed that mage, Garrett held his mother as she died all over again. Before this he and Marian had already lost their father when they were just kids, watched their younger brother get smashed by an ogre as they fled the Blight, and Garrett's current…the _elf_ he had some very strong feelings for had just left him. Then the Qunari attacked the city. Kirkwall was in flames, and those ox-men were going to kill everyone that did not submit to the Qun."

Dorian's head reeled, and he set polite decorum aside in order to take another long drink from his glass, banking on the alcohol to help steady him as he listened.

"Garrett and Marian led me and our friends on a suicide mission to free the city. When we got to the Viscount's Keep the Arishok had beheaded the Viscount and challenged Garrett to a duel. He accepted, and he won…but to this day, I don't think he really meant to. He was so broken…who wouldn't be, and I think he went into the duel with no intention of making it out alive. I had seen him obliterate demons and everything else under the sun before that, and that night I watched him get run through by a sword that was a big as Tara. I watched that giant-ass Qunari wave his body around like it was a _toy_ …but he didn't die. He _should_ have, but he did not die."

"What are you getting at Varric," Dorian asked, his heart weeping for the mage he had known. The dwarf realized that he was getting a bit too into it and sat back, taking a steadying breath of his own.

"You're a blood mage right?"

"I know enough about blood magic to abhor most of its uses while knowing how to use it myself, yes."

"Can you…could you _find_ someone using it?" Dorian stared at Varric as the dwarf's implications sank in.

"You mean, if I had a way to reach into the fade, could I find…I honestly do not know Varric. Even if I did find either of them, I would have no way of knowing if they were dead or not."

"But _if_ you _did_ find them…Garrett would feel _your_ magic and he could follow it out of the fade!"

"Varric that is _insane_! I don't know how you would even begin to go about such a thing. For starters I would need some of…I would need a sample of blood in order to find either one of them, and we'd need a way to open up a rift into the fade…I…I cannot listen to this any longer Varric, I'm sorry. I know you are hurting, I know that they were your close friends but I…"

 _I cared for Garrett Hawke so much that I feel as if his absence has tainted the air I breathe with pain._

"I cannot do _this_." Abruptly Dorian gained his feet, casting Varric a sympathetic look as the dwarf's own gaze swam down to the bottom of his tankard.

"I have some of Garrett's blood," he said softly.

That got Dorian's attention. The mage halted his departure and turned to look back at the dwarf who was still stalwartly looking guiltily at his cup. "It was supposed to be a secret, just between us. I don't think he even told his sister about it…after things went to shit between the mages and Templars in Kirkwall, there was a lot of blood magic going on, mages turning into all sorts of abominations. Garrett never wanted that to be his fate so, after that he crafted his own phylactery and…and he gave it to me for safe keeping, just in case I ever had to have him hunted down. It's here with me…if we could convince Tara to open a rift…you could try to find Garrett. If you need more blood to make the magic work you can use mine," Varric added firmly his eyes moving up to lock with the mage's wide eyed gaze. "Please Dorian?"


	16. Chapter 16: Picking Paths

**Author's Note: I know there has been a LOT of filler to deal with. Trust me. I'd rather be flinging hot smutty smut smut at you all. It's much more fun to write and read after all. That being said, enjoy the angst, the filler, and whatever else you may glean here. As always, I love you and thank you! Enjoy!**

Varric's words rang in Dorian's head. The Tevinter mage did not know what to do. He had my all means seen the Hawkes in their final moments, but…what if the dwarf was right? What if they had prevailed against the demon? Or, since time passed more slowly in the fade, what if they were still fighting for their survival? What if he could save Garrett?

But in the same breath would either of them appreciate blood magic being used on them, even if it were to save them?

These things weighed heavily on his heart. It was nearly three in the morning, and he was too drunk to continue as he was. He needed sleep. He needed a few precious hours to not think. Slowly he made his way to the door leading to the stairway up to the library, and then paused before changing his course.

He made his swaying way instead to Garrett's former room, pushing the door open with a small sigh before staggering inside. He shut the door behind himself and began shedding his clothing as he made his way to the big mage's bed. By the time he fell beneath the covers he was naked, his skin pricked by cold but he still refrained from lighting the fireplace. He snuggled up under the mass of blankets, and pulled the pillow that held the indentation of Garrett's head up to his face.

The big man's scent still clung there. Sheer rock and fresh air mixed with the hulking mage's unique masculine pheromone. It was then that Dorian let go of his pain, letting it free from its cage to consume him. He sobbed into that pillow clutching it as tightly as he could, as tightly as he should have held onto Garrett.

Memories rose to bleed through his mind. The heat of the big man's skin, the hardness of his muscular body, the difference of his tenderness whenever he put his hands on him. What would it have been like to know him better? To be held another night? What would it have been like to have sex with Garrett? What would have happened if he had acknowledged his _feelings_ earlier?

A strangled sob ripped free of Dorian's lips at that particular thought. He had never been in love before, and in truth he did not know if what he had felt towards Garrett Hawke had been love, but there had been _something_ so keenly special growing between them.

And now it, like him, was dead. The sobs came harder then. Each one stopping the breath in his throat as it tore free of him. The last time he had felt so much pain, so alone, was after his father's ritual.

Dorian cried until he fell asleep.

 _He awoke in a dream. The familiar seafoam scene of the fade rose to his mind's eye like a gentle breeze. The realm was thus far shapeless as it usually was when he had imbibed heavily, besides, he enjoyed the blurred quiet._

 _Dorian shifted aimlessly through the haze, walking for the sole purpose of movement careful to keep his thoughts as neutral as he could. He envisioned a quiet glen and the fade shifted around him into the pleasant flora of some nameless clearing he held in his discarded memories. With a relieved sigh the mage sank down beneath a tree and imagined himself a pleasant warm breeze. For a few minutes he rested in the false calm, soaking up the painless quiet._

 _If he could just remain here forever…if he willed it he could create a happier ending for himself. He could call Garrett Hawke to life; feel his heat, know his touch, see his face…as long as he was…_

 _Suddenly the air of the fade around him began to shift, growing unbearably hot. The mage opened his eyes and slowly got to his feet, thoughts of Garrett slipping from his mind. As soon as his focus shifted, the seafoam world around him returned to its normal state._

 _How odd…I wonder…_

 _Tentatively Dorian brought the face of the dead mage to his mind once again. Almost instantly the fade began to shift, the trees of his glade trembling, the grass dying beneath his feet as the air grew hot once more. He continued to think of Hawke, even as the air began to burn his throat. The trees abruptly splintered, falling to dust as blackened rock shot up from the ground all around him._

 _It was as it had been while he had been physically in the fade… Dorian blinked shoving all thoughts of Garrett from his mind, and again the fade shifted back into its pleasant dream state._

 _Was thinking of Hawke invoking a nightmare? It had seemed to be almost something more than that, but to be honest Dorian was not sure he possessed the metal to deal with another nightmare. Out of nowhere the voice of Marian Hawke split the quiet of the Tevinter man's glade._

 _"Garrett…come on, we can make it!"_

 _Dorian stood stock still as the warrior woman's voice faded away from its initial volume. The urgency in her tone lingered in her voice's wake, and Dorian braced himself inwardly._

 _Something was happening._

 _Perhaps it was the work of demons? Perhaps it was simply a nightmare? He did not know, but he knew one thing…something was pulling him to think about the Hawkes. He hesitated one more moment then Varric's words rang through his memory. 'They were the best people I have ever known…after all they did, after all they suffered they deserve me at least trying.'_

 _Dorian closed his eyes and called every detail he possessed about Garrett to his mind. He kept his eyes clamped shut as the hellfire rose to burn all around him. He heard the rocks splitting the ground once more, the airy screeching of demons rising, then the unmistakable roar of Garrett's magic exploded all around him._

 _The Tevinter mage's eyes ripped open and he inhaled the searing air as his gaze locked upon the scene before him. He stood atop the stairs he had last seen Garrett from, and blinked as he beheld the siblings fighting before him._

 _Garrett spun his staff, striking its bladed end down deep into the earth splitting it with a violent barrage of lightening that shot forward to rip at the massive Nightmare demon before him._

 _Marian, her armor covered in blood, charged beneath the beast, slashing at its legs as their barbed tips rained down all around her attempting to impale her. The determined warrior cut one of the spider's legs from its body before diving out of the way as her brother lunged forward with a pillar of blazing fire expelling from his staff._

 _"We can do it, it's weakening," Marian cried confidently, even as Dorian beheld her arms shaking as she hefted her blade. "Just like the rock wraith!"_

 _"Just like the rock wraith," Garrett echoed as he backed away. The big mage's face was set in stone as his magic built all around him, crackling across his skin as the power grew to a point that it visibly yearned for release. With a great roar the hulking Ferelden loosed his spell, a dazzling combination of lightening and ice that first froze the demon's legs, then in one smooth cracking pull severed the spider's limbs._

 _The beast screamed in agony, thrashing wildly. Then Marian was there, leaping through the air to impale the demon's head with her sword, twisting the blade until it broke so deeply was it embedded. The spider twisted, forcing Marian to jump free as it spiraled amidst the icy cones of its severed limbs. She staggered forward, and Garrett was there to catch her in his arms, dragging her away as the demon screamed once more. Then all was still._

 _"We did it," Dorian heard the mage whisper, a small grin splitting his face as his gaze moved down to his sister. Then his face paled, eyes widening in frantic horror. "Marian…Mar! No, no, Mar stay with me." Blue healing magic bled from Garrett's hulking form, pouring down into his now motionless sibling. "Stay with me! We're going to make it…you said so," the big mage pleaded as he settled back against a rock and cast a barrier around himself and his sister. "Maker take it, you always have to be right in every other instance! You're damned going to be right now! Marian…Someone…get us out of here…someone please…help us…HELP!"_

"Garrett!" Dorian sat bolt upright as he heaved in a massive gulp of air. His entire body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his muscles twitching and shuddering in the thralls of pure adrenaline. He wiped a hand over his face, as he continued to regain control over his breathing, the images from his dream freshly burning at the forefront of his mind.

He did not know what that dream had meant, but it had felt _real_. It had been as if he were standing there, watching everything transpire from behind a thin sheet of glass, and unlike his other dreams, this one remained etched firmly in his mind.

 _"Please Dorian?"_

Slowly Dorian got to his feet and began redressing in his clothing from the night before as he considered his options, and coming to see that there were many more than lying in this bed crying. As he slipped on his boots and stared at the closed door before him, Dorian steeled himself, his decision made.

He was not going to let Garrett Hawke go. Not so easily, he thought to himself as fierce purpose blossomed to fill the void in his heart. He was a skilled and powerful mage damn it! He knew spells that could bend time itself to his will. No he was not going to _let_ Garrett go. Not yet, not without the bloodiest possible fight he could muster.

* * *

Krem awoke feeling much like he had when he had first regain consciousness after Iron Bull's rescue so many years ago. But unlike that day, there was no one to comfort him in the wake of tragedy.

He still could not quite accept the news his commander had given him the night before. He knew that Bull had attempted to be gentle, but hearing that Marian was gone. Fallen in battle against a massive demon…a fitting end for such a warrior, but one he had not been prepared for.

He had just cracked the surface. Only _just_ found himself inside the razor wire ridden wall that surrounded Marian's true nature. It was too soon.

Hindsight was not kind. He could have been more forward. He could have said more, done more, tried harder at the first glimmer of acceptance that had shown in her eyes. Instead he had tread so carefully, so softly as not to upset the delicate position of favor he had gained.

The kiss they had shared in the Winter Palace why did that have to linger so stalely on his lips…because it had been under the guise of practicality. He had never given her what he really felt, what she really deserved, his _genuine_ interest, bold and barefaced.

Shame hung heavily about the warrior's shoulders as he roused himself from his bed and moved out into the main room of the Herald's Rest. As he stepped out his gaze moved to settle on Dorian Pavus' back as the mage spoke in a hushed tone with one of the bartenders. Briefly he wondered if the poor man was already back to drown himself once more. He had seen the Tevinter the previous evening, and felt an echo of sympathy for the man who had also lost so much in Marian's brother's passing.

"Fasta vass," the ebony haired mage said, slamming a fist down upon the bar before seemingly catching himself. "Sorry. Thank you," he then muttered turning away and moving towards the door of the tavern. Krem moved to intercept Dorian, drawing the man's somewhat startled gaze as he stepped into his path. "Ah, Cremisius. Good morning, how are you?"

Dorian's tone brought the warrior up a little short. Krem had expected to face a broken man, the same man he had seen quietly slipping drunkenly from the tavern the night before. But the mage's eyes held something far different from pain or sorrow. The mage looked focused, determined to the point of distraction.

"I am, well. What are you doing here? The last I saw you, I was certain your ensuing hangover would leave you bedridden for quite some time."

"I was looking for Varric," the mage said quietly. "I left him here, in just as bad a state as myself and…well, he and I have some very important unfinished business." Krem said nothing for a moment, but neither did the warrior make a move to get out of Dorian's way. The question was in his eyes, _what business?_

"Krem," the mage began carefully, his eyes shifting around the room for prying ears. "I can see your interest in this and by all rights you _should_ be interested in this…take a deep breath and try to remain calm alright? Varric believes that the Hawkes could still be alive somewhere in the Fade and he wants me to use my…my magic to try and bring them back out."

The air rushed from Krem's lungs in a low hiss, pain and disbelief roiling with hope behind his eyes. "Are you trying to find him to tell him that he is insane?"

"I already told him that much…but…now I am more inclined to call him brilliant. And…I am going to do it. I'm going to _try_." At that Krem's gaze sparked wildly.

… "I want to be there."

* * *

Cullen had awoken to Tara curled tightly against his chest. The night had been an interesting one. Between her screaming at him, nearly passing out, and their discussion about her time in the Fade…he had come to view her in a different light. Yes, he had admired her from the moment they had met, he had grown fond of her during their time since, but now.

Now as he stared down at her still sleeping face, his heart stirred. He had viewed her as a pillar of strength, an unbending woman in the face of all of this shit. He had placed her above it all, given her a place amongst Andraste and the Maker himself, and simultaneously distanced himself off from her in the same breath.

She was human; she was a daughter and a sister. She held in her own heart so many fears and doubts that he could have never imagined. And he had until last night, been unwilling to grant her such a role.

Humans, people like _him_ , were weak. They did not rise to their challenges, but rather wallowed in the regret of failure later in their lives. And yet, here she was, willing to admit her weakness and at the same instance she knew the importance of the burden she bore. She was astounding to him, and that would not change he knew, however he also now knew that how _he_ had treated her would need to.

Cullen smiled as he recalled her raving that she had no idea what she was doing. Neither did he but now, here, holding her like this, he felt confident that he might just figure it out. The tall Commander leaned in to nuzzle his nose against the back of Tara's ear drawing a contented sigh from the petite woman. His arm around her waist tightened as elation filled his chest. This incredible woman saw fit to be with him, even in the midst of all that was happening, and he felt so strongly about her…

A loud banging at the door below gave the lanky blonde a start, which in turn jolted Tara from her deep slumber. She let out a small groan as she cast her gaze about, catching Cullen's gaze briefly as sending him a bright still half-asleep smile. "Someone calls you to your duties it seems," she mumbled as she rubbed at her eyes.

"It would seem so…" another louder more insistent rapping sounded and Cullen let out his own slightly annoyed moan.

"Who is it," he thundered down, though his own lips stretched a smile as he gave Tara a quick kiss.

"It is your resident dashing mage, a rather talented storyteller, and well Krem. If you are not too _busy_ might we borrow the Inquisitor for a bit?"


	17. Chapter 17: Someone Needs To Say It

**Author's Note: My dear readers you are so good to me. So kind, so patient! Enjoy!**

"Are you sure you want to do this right now?"

Aiden let out his held breath like a horse, his hands on his hips as his sister's quiet question sent him rocking nervously on his feet. Heel to toe then back again, he looked like a cobra leisurely coiling itself to strike. Zevran and Alistair stood back a few paces, watching in silence. "I don't know…I have always wondered, and as his _father_ I should at least meet the boy."

"You have just lost your cousins and reclaimed your duty as Warden Commander, you're fearing you may never get another chance."

"Yes," the crow haired man said bluntly. "He is _my_ son, regardless of the circumstances surrounding his origins."

"Then go, Morrigan reads in the gardens when it is sunny like this and he plays among the plants and dirt…Aiden?"

"What," the big man said, pausing at the door leading out into the Inquisition gardens. Serena licked her lips, a hand reaching out to grasp her brother's hand in a firm squeeze.

"He looks just like you," she said smiling warmly. At that Aiden turned his dark gaze back to his lover. The elf smiled and accented Serena's words with a confirming nod, "That he does." The big arcane-warrior curtly tipped his head at that knowledge and swallowed hard as he pushed the barrier aside and stepped out into the sun. His approach was somewhat hidden by the row of trees planted along the opposite side of the banister, but through the thickening leafs he could see Morrigan. She sat upon a low bench, a book in her lap, one pale hand deftly turning the next page aside as her eyes ate up the knowledge within.

The laugh of a child rang out and Aiden froze. A boy, tall and spindly in his build rushed out from the open tower seated in the garden's corner. His midnight hair swayed about his angular face as he dodged the mabari chasing at his heels.

Orion, Serena's lifelong companion, greyed in his muzzle but with eyes that still held all the light of a pup caught up to the boy, pouncing upon him gently. Aiden's son squealed with delight as the lumbering dog licked at his face in victory. "Honestly…" he heard Morrigan mutter, though a smile bent up the corners of her mouth. The mabari lifted his head, giving the witch a long tongue-lolling stare before turning his nose into the wind. Abruptly he departed from his place with the boy, barking loudly as he bounded towards where Aiden stood.

That made Morrigan stiffen, her eyes striking out to pierce him in place as her face turned a shade paler. Aiden hated to see that, hated that the mother of his child would regard his appearance with fear. He swallowed his emotions and slapped a great smile upon his face as he stepped out into view, bending low to ruffle Orion's ears. "Well look who it is! Who's a good boy? Who's the best war-dog in the whole of Thedas? You are!"

 _Thank you_ , Aiden added silently as he took a moment to compose himself under the guise of petting the lumbering beast. His heart sufficiently dislodged from his throat the raven haired man stood to his full height and slowly walked towards the now standing Morrigan. The boy, his son, stood just behind her skirts peering out at him with wide curious eyes.

Eyes that were distinctly _not_ his own, but the golden cat-like eyes of his mother.

"Good day Morrigan," he said carefully, as he heard the others moving out behind him. The witch's own gaze narrowed, striking first at him then at his company.

"Hello Aiden," she said carefully, one hand absently reaching down to pet the hair of the child at her side. She turned her golden gaze downwards then, sending her son a smile, "Kieran, you can stop hiding. This man is…"

"He looks like me."

Kieran's words hung in the air like a thousand daggers waiting to rain down upon them. Then the boy moved around his mother's hip and strode up to Aiden without a hint of fear in his eyes. Slowly the tall man sank down to squat eye level with his son, desperately searching for what to say. The raven haired child tilted his head to one side, eyes narrowing much like his mother's own inquisitive glare. "Are you my father?"

Aiden did not know if he should answer that loaded question and hesitated. But as he looked at his son he saw something very familiar in the depths of those eyes. He might have only been ten years old, but Aiden recognized the demand for truth all the same. Slowly, as if it were _he_ that was speaking to a child Kieran continued, "The Witch of the Wilds said that my father was a very powerful mam, a mage, who slayed demons and dragons with a sword made of fire and lightning. Your magic shifts the fade around you while you breathe…"

The fact that Kieran did not call Morrigan 'mother' startled Aiden slightly but the way his son was looking at him was so pointedly expectant, and so damned enthralled that Aiden could not help his broad smile. The arcane-warrior held up his right hand and an instant later the very blade Kieran had heard of exploded to life before him. "I am, Kieran." The boy grinned from ear to ear, and then his eyes shifted to lie upon Serena and the others as they too made their way forward to meet him.

The group settled atop the benches and rocks at the gardens center, each of them taking a turn to introduce themselves to Morrigan and Aiden's keenly perceptive son. The boy had some interesting things to say to each of them, most intriguingly was his comment about Zevran's 'old blood'. But the adults held their tongues, and soon enough the boy had lost interest in them and was back to romping around with Orion, leaving the rest of them to fall into an odd silence.

"It's the soul of the Old God that makes him that way isn't it," Aiden asked quietly, his eyes still plastered to his son's back. Morrigan nodded.

"It 'tis, he still holds much of the same characteristics of a normal human child, but he also holds knowledge that is not _his_ own. It can be _trying_ at times…"

"I can imagine."

"I am glad that you have met him…and…I am sorry. I heard of the loss of your cousins," Morrigan said softly. "I never spoke with either of them, but the tales I have heard…well, I suppose nobility of heart must simply run in your blood."

"I certainly hope so," Aiden chuckled as he took a steadying breath. He had tried not to give Garrett or Marian's passing too much thought. He dreaded writing to Bethany, and had debated going to tell her in person. She would be all alone in the world now, and somehow, he felt that it was at least partially _his_ fault.

Suddenly the group began to pick up on shouting coming from the court yard just above them. One voice, distinct to them all, rose above the rest as Tara Trevelyan thundered, "I am the Inquisitor and my decision is made!"

"Maker's breath, it is _INSANE_!" Upon hearing the semi-familiar voice of Commander Cullen, Serena cleared her throat and gained her feet.

"Perhaps we should see if our dear Inquisitor is in need of assistance?"

* * *

All of his newfound tender admiration, his gentle realization that Tara was human…he took it all back. The woman had lost her mind.

He had not expected Varric, Dorian, and Krem upon his doorstep first thing in the morning. He had especially not expected the trio to ask the Inquisitor to assist them in a completely deranged blood magic ridden attempt to re-enter the fade and _save_ the Hawkes. He had stood numb with shock as Dorian had shared his dream from the night before with them, using it as his reasoning for being a willing participant in the quest. When Varric had produced a homemade phylactery containing the Champion of Kirkwall's blood he'd nearly shed his own skin. But he'd held his tongue, fully expecting Tara to use her goodwill and reason to diffuse the mad plan.

Instead she had nodded, fallen into silent contemplation for a good five minutes, and then _accepted_ to join the trio's crazy plan. It had taken him a few precious seconds to absorb what he had just heard her say, and by then she and the others were already moving away casually discussing the details of their mission. He'd given chase then and gruffly expressed his disdain for the whole notion.

Tara had brushed him off and his temper had begun to boil. She had come to him for comfort, fallen asleep in his arms, and awoken to kiss him just minutes ago, and now she was acting like none of that had even occurred. He managed to not scream, _"It's fucking blood magic,"_ but he had instead thundered that he would not _allow_ them to go through with their mad idea. That had pricked Tara's own anger, and now here they were, in the middle of the open courtyard in front of everyone, the Leader of the Inquisition and the Commander of its forces screaming in one another's faces.

Somehow Tara managed to rein in her volume as she leaned in to pin him with those mossy eyes of hers and hissed, "You _knew_ them. You have heard and seen much of what they went through, all the _good_ they have brought to this world. Why do you now stand against the idea of saving them?"

"Because I do not think it can be done, and the methods you are agreeing to in order to try are…no good can come of this!"

"If we could save them, if we managed to do what we intend to? That would not be a good thing?"

"That is not what I am saying and you know it," Cullen huffed as he reached a hand to press at the back of his neck.

"Hello!" The sound of Serena Theirin's voice jolted the duo from their standoff. Tara turned to find the Ferelden monarch casually sauntering towards them; her husband, brother, and Zevran trailing in her wake. "We couldn't help but overhear you two love birds chatting away. Might I suggest that you and your companions come with me? They can wait outside while we three retire to the War Room. The walls are thicker there, much more suited to such spirited debate."

Effectively admonished the now red faced Cullen and equally flushed Tara nodded their agreement, and allowed themselves to be led to the War Room. Once inside Serena took a casual seat on the table's edge, watching the Inquisitor and the Commander shuffle their feet awkwardly as they cast their gazes anywhere but each other. Serena kept her smile to herself.

Watching these two was somewhat like looking back in time at herself and her husband; fighting over Sten's release, bickering in front of everyone over her decision to keep Zevran, ah, what wonderful memories. The difference of course was that Cullen was no young man flung into the midst of turmoil without a hint of an idea what to do. He was a leader himself, capable and strong in his decisions that were based on hard facts. While Tara was the one scrambling to fit her own ideals into the role she had been dropped. She led with her head but she was as equally swayed by her heart, Maker it was like looking in a mirror at a less conditioned version of herself.

"Now then," Serena began carefully, "something is amiss. Something that I gather you two might not see _eye-to-eye_ on…would you mind filling me in?"

"It's about the Hawkes," Tara began to say just as Cullen forcefully cut her off with a blunted, "No." The petite woman's glare was as cutting as could be, but beneath it the tall blonde barely flinched offering her his own glare in return.

"Hearing what this is all about will not bring it to fruition Commander," Serena gently chided. "Tara, would you please expound on the matter?"

* * *

"Maker preserve me I do not see how you are so _calm_ about this!" After his sit down with Tara and Serena Theirin, Cullen had found himself almost frothing with rage. Then the King of Ferelden had invited him for dinner, and what could he have done but accept? Now Alistair paused, his mug of ale hanging in the air between himself and the Commander of the Inquisition. The dirty-blonde monarch finished taking his drink then set his cup aside, his eyes moving over the lines of worry etched into the other man's face.

"Cullen, I know a little bit about you so let me begin our conversation with this…I understand why you are against this, and personally I agree with you. Blood magic is dangerous and forbidden for a reason."

"Then how can you just sit there and allow your wife to be a part of this! To make you a part of it as well!?" The Commander sat back in his chair running a frustrated hand over his face as he tried to comprehend the impending situation he found himself in. The current rulers of Ferelden, the new Commander of the Grey Wardens, an elven assassin, the leader of the Inquisition, a Tevinter mage, a Tevinter mercenary, a Dwarf, and a Qunari were going to attempt to rip open the Veil and retrieve two people, who were probably already dead, from the Fade beyond.

Alistair cleared his throat, "First of all Commander, my wife does _not_ make me do anything." Perhaps she suggested that he take Cullen aside for a heart to heart, but no in truth, she did not _make_ him do anything. "And I am going with her because if I did not there would be no one there to use Templar abilities should any demon make a dash for the rift that will be opened, or quell this Dorian fellow should he lose himself to his _particular_ brand of magic. Also there is the notion of being able to keep my wife safe, but I'm sure you at least had that portion figured out."

"I did…a sentiment that I share in regards to the Inquisitor…" the Commander's frown became more severe. He shook his head and muttered, "I do not understand her…"

"You mean that you do not know how to _handle_ her." That brought Cullen up short. He stared at the younger man across the table from him for a moment, until Alistair sighed and leaned forward on his elbows a smile rising into his eyes. "You're a complicated person Cullen, and you and I both know why. You're used to leading from the front of battle, but when it comes to matters of the heart, you don't feel so confident, so you shy away. Trying to pick through a relationship as though you were, shall we say, playing chess?"

"I suppose that is _fair_ …I'm trying to keep things professional. Tara and I are in a _delicate_ position here and I…why are you laughing?" Alistair tried to keep his chuckling to a minimum, hoping not to draw too much attention to their table at the tavern.

"Forgive me, I am just now realizing how trying it must have been at times for my wife to court _me_ when we were younger." The warrior monarch laced his fingers behind his head and kicked back in his chair, surveying Cullen with friendly eyes.

"How about I tell you a story? After we became the rulers of Ferelden I leaned on my wife's knowledge of politics like a crutch. She made many of the decisions regarding what was to happen in the kingdom during those first few months, while I learned how to do the same. She was always smiling, always strong, always joyful, and kind. She was the perfect ruler. Then half a year after we had defeated the Arch Demon she had to send Aiden off to investigate Darkspawn threats that had come from Vigil's Keep.

I knew that it had not been easy for her to do and I also knew that we could have found someone else to take on the role, but I kept my opinions to myself and _supported_ her. The night after he left, I found her in our chambers crying. I tried to offer her comfort in the form of facts and she tore into me as if I had attacked her. She could not handle the burden of leadership any more, she told me that she wanted to _leave_ , that she was never meant to be a queen."

"Dear sweet Maker…what did you do?" Cullen could not imagine how Alistair had managed to salvage himself in that moment. He already had begun to play out in his head how he would have given Serena space, allowed her to calm down then perhaps talked to her…or if it seemed that silence was a better option, left it alone…sort of what he was planning on doing after his fight with Tara earlier that day.

"I kissed the tears from her eyes and ravished her thoughtless. That's what I did! I gave her an outlet in which she did not have to be in charge. She did not truly want to give up. She just didn't want to be in control for a bit. Wish granted! That simple."

The Commander almost swallowed his tongue.

"W-what…how does that have _anything_ to do with _me_!?"

"I took charge _for_ her. Albeit our relationship is different from what I am assuming yours and the Inquisitor's is, but the idea is the same. You need to buck up Cullen. Let Tara be who she really is, let her figure out how she is meant to lead, and if you really believe in her…if you are serious about _her_. You need to start _showing_ it."


	18. Chapter 18: Highever Sunrise

**Author's Note: A big thank you to** SophusMao **for all your support! Enjoy!**

Tara did not know why Cullen was with them or how the Commander had managed to slip away from his duties for the journey, but neither could she deny that his presence brought her some comfort, even if every time she caught him looking at her his eyes were narrowed into a disapproving glare. She learned to ignore his hard looks after the first day out. She could not afford to linger on her relationship with the Commander whatever it might be at the moment, she and her carefully selected band of companions were on their way to the ruins of Lothering to perform an impossible task.

A village destroyed by the Blight, a place where the Veil still wore perilously thin, but also the place where the Hawke's had grown up. Dorian was confident that the attachment between the ruins and the siblings would assist him in guiding her rift to where they remained trapped in the fade. The mood about the company was hopeful if tentative. However, there were times when doubt could be seen written on any of their faces. Perhaps they would be too late? What if their plan did not even work? Or worse, what if all they managed to do by opening a rift was allow more demons to pour into the world?

These negative thoughts were held by careful tongues. It would do them no good to despair prematurely. They had come this far, and they were all determined to see it through.

The land around what had once been a quiet village was now a sinister looking marshland that crawled with Blighted beasts and corpses of the long dead. It was a grueling journey, but through sheer force of will they reached their destination in four long days. As they entered the old gates leading down to where the village had stood Serena and her husband paused alongside Aiden. Their faces each held the same pain of regret at the memory of the last time they had been here. It was one of the few places in Ferelden that they had not been able to save.

Resilient as ever Aiden swiftly flung away his emotions and moved to take the lead, carefully picking his way to where the Hawke household had once stood many years ago. The overgrown remains of the house's chimney, along with a few larger support beams were all that was left of the building. The companions all moved about silently, taking in the more than modest beginnings of the two beloved siblings. Then Tara cleared her throat and moved to stand beside Dorian, "Are you ready for this?"

Varric approached from the mage's other side and removed Hawke's phylactery reverently from an interior pocket of his coat. "Yes," Dorian said, his eyes meeting the dwarf's own intent gaze with stony promise. "On your word Inquisitor."

Tara took a deep breath, her eyes moving down to the mark glowing in her hand then she clenched a fist. "Alright, everyone! We have no idea what could be on the other side of this rift but undoubtedly demons will be drawn to Dorian's magic from both within the Fade and out, so once it is open be prepared for anything. If the Maker is with us and we do find them I pray they will be able to make their own way out, but if they are too injured Krem and Bull I'll need your strength to get them out. Aiden, set up a barrier around us, I don't want us getting hit from behind while we're focused on the rift. It will be up to the rest of you to hold off any hostiles."

Aiden moved back a bit and readied a lyrium potion at his hip before letting his magic loose to dance in a fiery circle all around them. Tara nodded at him and turned to look at Serena and Alistair. "I know that you are both here to help…but this time I am _serious_ when I say this. No heroics. Serena I want you to stand with me, I may need help in keeping myself up as the rift draws on me. Alistair, stay by Dorian…in case…"

"I could not ask to be cut down by a more dashing ex-Templar Your Majesty," Dorian said cheerfully as he bowed his head. "Do not worry Tara my dear; I understand what I am doing here," he then added more seriously. Again the petite rogue nodded.

"Okay…here we go!" Dorian uncorked the vial that held Garrett's blood and slowly drew it forth. Before this moment he had never found any true favor in his darker abilities. He had learned the magic purely for defense and used it well, but now he could have almost _thanked_ his father for inciting his need to learn it. As Tara stretched forth her hand Dorian waited until the exact moment she loosed her powers, and melded Garrett's blood into it.

A rift burst to life before them, widening until they could see the Fade beyond. The scene beyond the hole in the air began to shift as Dorian's magic worked its way through time and space seeking out the owner of the claret liquid. A dull roar began to sound from the rift, and the Tevinter mage realized that it was similar to the hot rushing noise he had experienced in his dream. He allowed his eyes to fall shut, calling forth every thought he possessed about the big Ferelden mage feeling the pull of the blood grow stronger and stronger.

"There!" Dorian's eyes flew open as the world beyond the rift settled on the same set of steps that he had ascended when they had faced the Nightmare demon. Tara's arm shook as her mark reacted to the previously sealed piece of Veil, which it seemed was attempting to reject further probing. Past the shuddering tear he could see the faint glow of Garrett Hawke's own barrier as it held against a swarm of smaller spider demons.

"He can't hold that up much longer," the Tevinter man shouted, wishing he could rush to the other man's aid. "Get in there!" As Bull, Varric, and Krem leapt into the opening of the rift the big Qunari suddenly thundered an angry explicit.

"Boss these _things_ are everywhere!" And indeed, the smaller spiders had infested the area surrounding the fallen Nightmare demon, pouring out from every available crevasse like water from a burst spout. Dorian grit his teeth and sent a flash of fire shooting out and down the stairs, incinerating the demons closest to the two warriors alongside Varric's wave of bolts. He could _feel_ Garrett's barrier failing.

Then the big man's head bobbed upwards, unfocused eyes moving up to rest unbelievingly on his would-be rescuers. He uttered a single word, and Dorian felt his heart jolt as he recognized the movement of his name on the other man's lips. Varric let out a bellow of encouragement as he, Bull, and Krem set about carving a slow path towards the big mage.

With every ounce of strength he possessed Garrett dragged himself to his feet, his sister dangling limply from his shoulder as he used his staff to help himself remain upright, and began to take one jolting step forward after another. Tara screamed falling back against Serena as her mark split her palm further. The rift shimmered. "Hold strong," the Ferelden monarch said encouragingly as the Inquisitor grit her teeth against the white hot pain flooding her body.

Garrett looked up at the rift, at those fighting to reach him and his sister, with tired grateful eyes. Then he hefted Marian up and locked gazes with Krem. "Catch her," he said weakly a moment before he heaved his sister's dead weight forward with all his might. His barrier collapsed as he used the rest of his magic to cast a force push beneath Marian's body, which carried her almost directly into Krem's waiting arms. The warrior turned and instantly raced back through the rift. Marian was safe. Tara let out a loud cry of agony, sweat pouring from her forehead as she sank down onto her knees.

"I can't…sweet Maker, I can't hold it…oh please…"

"You can do it Tara," Dorian called out, splitting off a piece of his own power to settle what minor healing magic he possessed on his friend. "Just a little longer! We have Marian, Bull just has to get to Garrett!"

"Sweet Maker they're _eating_ him," Varric cried out, as he began firing wildly at the spiders which now crawled over Garrett's body as the big mage fell to his knees unconscious.

With a roar like a lion Cullen leapt forward through the rift. Tara's eyes widened as she watched her Commander barrel down the stone steps, his shield held out before him, simply shoving his way to Garrett Hawke's side. With another war cry he stunned the spiders nearest to himself and sliced away those still clinging to the mage. Then he sheathed his sword and set his shield to his back and somehow hefted the hulking Ferelden's dead weight up across his shoulders and began running back towards the rift. He tripped on the stairs as a spider latched onto his ankle but then Iron Bull was there, crushing the creeping thing beneath one behemoth heel.

The Qunari took over Garrett's body moving towards the still open rift and Cullen scrambled to his feet, grabbing ahold of the collar of Varric's coat and pulling the dwarf through the rift just as Tara's mark sparked viciously up her wrist. The pain was too much, and with a high pitched cry she let the rift close with an air sucking snap. Dorian's magic also faded away as he rushed to the side of the unmoving siblings. Aiden also appeared, his barrier falling as he lent his own meager healing abilities to Marian's still form.

Cullen sank down, inspecting the bite to his leg with a mildly concerned eye before moving to where Serena sat cradling Tara's pale figure in her lap. "Is she alright?"

"Her mark…it spread," the Ferelden monarch admitted softly as she brushed a few wet strands of dark hair from Tara's brow. "You did it Inquisitor, we have them both."

"How are they," the petite rogue asked weakly trying to lift her head to look over at where the Hawke's lay. Dorian sat beside Garrett, probing the big man's body to gage his wounds.

"Marian is in a bad way," Aiden said solemnly as Varric moved to pour healing poultices over some of the warrior's gravest wounds as Krem sat at her side holding one pale hand between his own strong one. "It would take a healer of Garrett's skill to help her…if we could get back to the Keep, perhaps one of your other mages could do some good…but we're a four day's ride away…"

"What if someone went ahead, road hard and fast to the Keep and brought help back? They could meet us on the road right?" Krem offered the solution and after a moment Aiden nodded.

"That could work."

"Serena," Tara commanded from her place on the ground, "take your husband and go to Skyhold. Summon Vivienne and Solas, and bring back as many health poultices as you can carry. Your requests will meet no question…We've come this far, we are not going to _let_ them die now."

* * *

Garrett knew he was dead, he only hoped that somehow he had bought his sister another chance at life with his magic and his last resort of tossing her body to Bull's Lieutenant. After that he had felt the first few burning bites from the spiders that overtook him, then nothing.

He floated through the dark abyss with only his tangled sluggish thoughts as company. Lazily he wondered if this was what it was like to go to the Maker's side, to be made to think over one's every action and word in life. If so, it was a poor joke. He slipped deeper and deeper into his permanent slumber, relishing in the absence of the Fade as he unhurriedly mulled over his final sight of Dorian Pavus.

How romantic it had been to look up and see the mage he had forced from his side looking down at him with such determination. Garrett was certain his heart had never beaten so fiercely in chest before. Far be it from him to ever fit the role of a damsel, yet there he had been, on the brink of rescue from the man he had come to feel for. A dashing mage from Tevinter, with eyes like a rainy day, skin like rich burnished wood, and a taste for the finer things in life. Garrett was no fool, but he had still found himself _wanting_ to give Dorian those things. He had recreated his reclaimed family home in his dreams, relishing in the fantasy of taking the beautiful mage there and showering him with gifts before bedding him amidst golden silk sheets.

He knew better than to pout at what could have been, but all the same he wished he'd had more time. He always needed more time.

Among his thoughts Garrett suddenly became aware of something else, some great force that began to tug at him. He fought against it, having no real desire to leave this void just yet, fearful of the impending finality of death that undoubtedly awaited him. But the pull became stronger until he could no long fight against it. He spiraled up and up, faster and faster until his stomach lurched from the sensation, then he tasted the air on his lips and gasped.

Blue eyes flew open as the big mage's chest heaved mightily startling Dorian who had been resting in a chair at the Ferelden's bedside. Garrett sat up, a hand on his forehead, breathing hard until he finally became aware of his surroundings. Slowly he turned his head, his gaze sliding into Dorian's own wide eyed visage.

"Garrett…" the Tevinter man said softly, his eyes suddenly shimmering with the promise of tears.

"Dorian? …am I…alive?"

"Yes," the tanned mage said nodding as he let out a small desperate laugh. "Yes amatus, you are alive."

"Marian," the big man then rasped, shifting as if he thought to leave his bed. Dorian halted the movement and gently pushed him back down against his pillows.

"Also alive, I do not know if it will bring you comfort to hear but she has awoken once, very briefly. She came too as Solas took his turn at healing her wounds. I do not know who or what she thought he was, but she said something along the lines of 'you damned elf' and socked him right in the face…so we all have great hope in her eventual full recovery." Garrett let out a small laugh of his own, placing a hand over his face as the gravity of rejoining the land of the living settled over him. He would have to apologize to Tara's elven friend for _that_ mistake.

"You came back for us?"

"Varric's doing really, he would not _let_ you die, and I for one am very grateful for that. Otherwise who would acknowledge my unparalleled good looks!" Again the hulking Ferelden chuckled as his hand found Dorian's, giving it a squeeze as he grinned up at the indeed handsome mage.

"Come now, a gem like you? You would have eventually found someone to appreciate your shine."

"…The thing is…" Dorian paused, flustered. He was _never_ flustered, but somehow in this utterly important moment he faltered. He had envisioned what he would say the second Hawke regained consciousness over and over until he had the words imprinted onto the tip of his tongue. Never before had a single string of words been so important to him, and now they slipped away like startled birds. He fought to reclaim them. "I…I do not _want_ anyone else Garrett."

"To admire you," the dark haired mage asked with false confusion. "Alright I guess, but…that is _a lot_ of eyes to poke out. Might take a while you know."

"No…that is not…you know damned well what I meant by that…oh!"

For a man who had very recently been on death's door Garrett had no trouble in reaching up and dragging Dorian down to lay on top of his barrel chest. "I know what you meant Dorian," the big mage said his low voice sending a shudder down the other man's spine.

"You shouldn't be hefting things about like that you'll hurt yourself and send me into a fit of worrying all over again and wrinkles _do not_ suit me my dear." Garrett laughed, one massive hand coming to rest at the back of the Tevinter man's head.

"You'd best get used to it," the giant rumbled an instant before he pulled their lips together. Their first kiss had been a tentative question, the second a renewal of shared trust, their third a heartbroken goodbye.

This kiss was a birds' song, a flower erupting from the frozen ground at springs first beckoning, a sunrise over the mountains of Highever.


	19. Chapter 19: Slap A Smile On

**Author's Note: I'm hoping that my mojo comes back soon, or rather that I fight it back into my control once more. Life happens. As always, enjoy my dear readers.**

It took Marian another three days to awaken and though she breathed the warrior still seemed listless, her eyes lacking the fire they had held before her brush with death in the Fade. The rest of them knew why. The warrior's right arm had sustained an incredible amount of damage during the battle against the Nightmare demon, and in Vivienne's estimation would only hold perhaps a third of its original usefulness as a limb. That was _if_ Marian were lucky, if she was not in the mage's opinion it would be better to simply remove the warrior's arm completely.

Krem had visited the eldest Hawke every day since she had awoken in an attempt to cheer her up. He encouraged the auburn haired beauty to ignore Vivienne's outlook, reminding her that the Orlesian mage was not the Maker and did not decide the fate of her limb. With dull eyes Marian had turned to him and asked, "What good is a Hawke with a broken wing?"

The Lieutenant's temper had sparked then. He _hated_ seeing Marian like this, miserable and hopeless, especially after all they had gone through to bring her and her brother back from the Fade itself. The warrior's gaze was on the wall before her as she marinated in her self-pity. She had no idea what she would do now. Everything had seemed so final when she had lost consciousness in the Fade, an end to it all, a meaningful and fitting finale to her life. Now she was here, her very soul withering away as she faced another chance at life, but one in which she would barely maintain any semblance of usefulness.

Then there was a loud smack, and the auburn haired woman blinked as her right cheek began to sting. She moved her now wide eyed gaze back to focus on Krem as she realized what had happened. Bull's right-hand-man had slapped her!

He frowned down at her, looming from the side of her sick bed, his shoulders shaking with his anger. "Do you have any idea what I went through," the usually quiet brunette suddenly shouted. "When the Inquisitor came back from Adamant…people wept when they learned you were dead… _I wept_! You are such a light, such an inspiration to the people of this organization, and you mean enough to me that I came for you and Garrett. And now you lay here because some haughty Orlesian Circle mage who knows little more than your name is telling _you_ what _you_ are capable of!? It's maddening, it's ridiculous! You're better than this. You are _not_ the kind of woman to just lie down and give up like this! You are not some hapless spineless whelp, so stop acting like one Damnit!"

"Krem…"

"No stop," the brunette said more softly as one of his hands made a pass over his eyes. "You know, I have been gentle with you…I have been quiet and patient because I believed these things were not only what you deserved but what you needed. Because I wanted to be here for you…from the moment we extracted you from the Fade…I have waited for you to open your eyes…you were so close to death when we finally reached you…it was more than I thought that I could bear, sitting at your bedside day and night watching and waiting, and praying to a god that I am not convinced listens…"

The Lieutenant shook his head, "I should go. Perhaps it is not fair that I am so angry with you…but the woman I care for…the woman I know you to be, this is not it. And I cannot watch you destroy yourself after all I have already seen." With that Cremisius moved out of the sickroom, the door shutting behind him with a definitive click that echoed in Marian's ears along with his words.

* * *

What was she going to do now?

Tara sat upon the edge of her bed staring down at her bandaged wrist. It was a miracle that they had managed to return with the Hawkes, an even greater one that they both were in at least somewhat stable condition. It had taken every healer the Inquisition possessed to make it so, but by the Maker they had done it.

Then there was the matter of her mark.

Solas had scolded her mightily when she had finally dared to approach him and show him the new split reaching to her wrist. He had used some powerful elven magic to seal the jagged edge, and recommended that she refrain from any rift hunting for at least a week. That had suited her just fine. She had many political matters to see to, and she had wished to stay nearby and make certain that the Hawkes were receiving the best treatment possible.

Even so there were many things that needed to be done though that could not occur while she remained at Skyhold. The ever growing list of tasks that required her presence began its familiar trail through Tara's thoughts. Pressing in on her like a mountain slowly being lowered upon her shoulders…

A knock sounded on her door causing the petite rogue to all but jump to her feet. Quietly she moved towards the door to her chambers, pausing to collect a dagger from her nightstand before crossing the room. "Yes, who is it?"

"It's me…Cullen." At the sound of that particular baritone voice Tara's heart quickened its beat. The Commander had _never_ come to her chambers before. She kept her knife behind her back, just in case it was an imposter or some other such ploy, and cracked the barrier open.

"Yes?" She looked up and her breath caught in her throat as she found herself indeed facing the handsome Commander.

"Um, may I come in?"

"In?" Tara repeated dumbly, watching as Cullen ran a hand up the back of his neck in his usual ritual. She noticed then that the tall blonde lacked his usual armor. Instead his handsome frame stood covered in simple black leather pants, and a tanned tunic belted at the waist.

"Yes, might I come inside for a minute?"

"Oh yes, please come in!" Tara instantly stepped back allowing Cullen to move into the room, his gaze moving curiously to the hand at her back as he shut the door softly behind himself.

"Were you expecting someone else?"

The dagger, of course…

"This," Tara quipped brightly as she held the blade up with a shrug. "Tis but another measure of protection gifted to me by our dearest Nightingale. Though I have something far better now," she continued as she moved to set the dagger back on its usual table. "The veritable Lion of Ferelden! And what good protection you are…" Tara cleared her throat awkwardly as she turned back to face Cullen once more. They had not spoken since before they had left to rescue the Hawkes. She still did not know where _they_ stood, but she barreled on.

"I never got the chance to tell you this but…what you did when you rescued Garrett. That was very brave of you! I was…I was very worried for you in that moment, but I knew that you would make it. You are…magnificent to watch in battle did you know that?"

The Commander's face flushed an impressive shade of rouge, and the sheepish warrior let out an uncomfortable laugh. "Had I known that I would receive such praise I would have come to your chambers sooner…" That made them both blush, and Tara could not help her smile as he stammered to correct his words. "That is…that is not how I intended that to sound. Maker's breath, I have spent too many long hours with Aiden Amell and Zevran!"

"I can only imagine what kinds of things those two have been teaching you if you have been lingering in their company," Tara said laughing. Then she quieted and set her eyes upon the Commander in a way that made his skin heat in an entirely different way. "If you did not come for flattery…then I am sorry, I do not understand why you are here Cul…Commander?"

That, that _right_ there was why he had come. It was driving him insane being in the same room as the woman he had dared to kiss, dared to dream of…and now she spoke to him only to give orders or to ask a military mind's opinion. Gone were the small electric looks she would slip him across the war table. Maker take it, she did not even come into his office just to see if he had a moment of spare time to chat anymore!

"I…I dislike this…this awkwardness that has settled between us…we used to play chess in the gardens and take walks about the ramparts…now we do not and, and I know that this is my fault. I am sorry for what happened before we left to go after the Hawkes…It is not that I do not have faith in you or your decisions…perhaps I do not always agree, but at the same moment I could never imagine myself being in your position. I should have been more supportive, and I should have made more time for us."

"It's alright Cullen," Tara said when the big man fell into a struggling silence. "I am the head of the Inquisition, and you are the Commander of the Inquisition's forces, I never expected that we would have much time…"

"Maker take it, I should have _made_ time!" At the warrior's raised voice the petite rogue fell into a stunned silence, watching a very different kind of war play out behind Cullen's eyes. "I should have but I did not." The lanky blonde's hand again moved to his neck as he began to pace the length of her chambers, his every stride as purposeful as if he had been marching into battle. "I did not and there is no excuse for that, only empty explanations…I do not know how you view me now or _us_ really. But I…if you…If you would have me I would like to be _yours_. I miss the way you used to run to me, leaning on me as though I were more than _just_ your military Commander…I know that we danced around a possible romantic involvement between the two of us, and that there are in fact many reasons that perhaps we should be _less_ involved with one another but…I don't want that…"

"What," Tara breathed feeling somewhat faint. How many moments had she waited for him to come to this point? How many times had she yearned to hear these very words from him? How many times had she wished to say them herself?

"I want _everything_ ," the blonde blurted out with more force than he had intended, but there was no way to stop the cascade of words that now poured from his heart. "I want everything with _you_. I am a former Templar and career military man but the thing I have always wanted was just my own personal mundane version of a fairytale. For some time I have held in my heart a dream of finding someone to shower with my affections, no matter how jumbled and poor they may be at times. To have a chance at a future…maybe even a family…but these things were only a dream…and then I met you, and somehow through even just our precious stolen moments and shared burdens of leadership…I… _I fell for you_ Tara." He marched back to stand before her, his eyes piercing her own. "I know that this is much for you to hear…but after what happened…after all that still may happen, I could not risk it going unsaid a moment longer. Lady Inquisitor Tara Trevelyan, I love you, there is no other title for the things I feel for you."

"Oh Cullen, I love you too."

She said it so simply so sweetly, without any hesitation or reservation and it made Cullen's heart soar. Without warning he reached down to capture her shoulders in his hands, and pressed his lips to her own. He wanted to melt into her, to hold her so close that they could never be apart again. She was already soundly within his heart, so it seemed only fitting in his mind. He deepened the kiss, something electric trembling through his flesh, as Tara let out a throaty moan of encouragement.

Her small hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer to her. Somehow they ended up by a wall, her smaller frame trapped between the stone and his body. Then those hands slipped greedily beneath his tunic and pressed against the flesh of his sides gripping him lightly. Tara kissed him all the more, lust igniting in her own body as she felt the packed muscle of the Commander's torso twitch and flex beneath her fingertips.

Cullen shifted a bit, trying to keep his wits about him as his own body began to strain with pent up passion, and Tara noticed. There was no way to ignore the hard length that had pressed so lightly against her hip as he moved before her. Her fingers moved to dig into his back giving the petite rogue leverage to grind her own hips upwards wantonly against his. The action caused the Commander to hiss out a breath. He pulled back and kissed her forehead before moving his gaze to lock with her own.

Those mossy eyes were bright, almost fevered, with an answering passion. Cullen licked his lips, his thumbs tracing small circles upon Tara's shoulders as he still wrestled himself for control. "Is this what you want?"

The Inquisitor's eyes laughed as she smiled up at him, lifting herself up onto her toes to press a light kiss upon the Commander's lips. "Yes please," Tara whispered eagerly.

Strong warm hands suddenly lifted her from her feet, moving her legs to wrap around his waist as Cullen moved to devour her mouth once more. She was enthralled with the passion this man held. Oh how she wanted this, how long had she dreamt of this!

A knock on the door, made them both freeze. "Inquisitor?" The sound of Leliana's voice from the hallway beyond made Tara groan impatiently. Cullen set her back onto her feet, bashfully moving away, retreating once more into his proper shell.

"Yes Leliana," the petite rogue called out as she walked towards the door, yanking it open with more force than was truly necessary. The red headed Spymaster lifted a brow at the Inquisitor's glare, and then briefly moved to take in Cullen's armor-less form standing awkwardly in the room behind her.

"I apologize for interrupting, but I have important news. It regards Calpernia, I believe that my agents have discovered something that we can use against her. Perhaps yourself and the Commander would both like to hear what I have learned?" Tara refrained from sighing aloud, but just barely. She was in that moment unsure what was fueling her murderous rage towards Corypheus; the fact that he wished to bring about the destruction of the world as they knew it, or the fact that he was really starting to get in the way of her personal desires regarding a certain handsome blonde.


	20. Chapter 20: Any Way You Want It

Dorian bustled around Garrett's chambers in a splendid tither. The big Ferelden was finally being released from the infirmary, and the Tevinter mage was going to see to it that his romantic interest's room was utter perfection upon his arrival. Even the dreadfully dreary weather outside was not going to ruin this. He'd had fresh linens brought in for the bed, lit the fireplace, scattered bundles of mint and eucalyptus around the room, and last but not least ordered a bath to be brought in. He'd poured the last of his own bath salts, purchased from a rather expensive shop in Minrathous, into the water and heated it to a pleasant steam as a final touch before settling himself into a chair by the fire.

Varric had offered to escort the second eldest Hawke from his sickbed, and the two should have been arriving any time. Dorian did not know why he was _so_ excited for this little homecoming, but he was. He opened the bottle of wine sitting on the table before him and poured a glass to give himself something to do other than re-fluff the pillows a fifth time. As he sipped the sweet liquid the tanned mage smiled. He was getting rather used to doting on the big mage. He had always been a giving lover, but that had besen in a much more physical sense.

This was different, special, as was Garrett Hawke.

"Alright Hawke, there you go…you're wet but you're back in your own space." It took a great deal of discipline for Dorian to not leap from his seat upon hearing the dwarf's voice beyond the door.

"Thank you Varric, I really appreciate it. I'll admit that I didn't think that such a short walk would take so much out of me."

"Well then I won't tax you any further. You get inside, get dried off, and go to bed. I'm sure you'll sleep better in there than that sterile little room."

"I believe you might be right, take care Varric. Thank you again." The mustached mage listened as the Storyteller's footsteps faded away. The door to the room opened, and a very wet and rather tired looking Garrett entered. Instantly the big mage's gaze swung around the room before settling soundly on Dorian's still seated smiling form. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, and then leaned back against the structure as a wide grin split his face.

"You did all this," the hulking Ferelden said in a low rumble to which Dorian nodded.

"Of course I did! You just came back from the dead basically, you deserve a little luxury, and I am all too happy to supply. Come, let us get you out of those wet clothes Amatus before you catch a cold on top of everything else."

"Trying to get me naked again," Garrett asked as a smoky glint sprang into his eyes. That look made Dorian shiver a bit. Since his lover's return, they had shared many kisses and even more salacious banter during his visits to the mage's sickroom, and the heat was always rising between them as surely as if they were stirring a volcano to life.

"I am _always_ trying to get you naked, for one reason or another," the charming Tevinter retorted as he closed the distance between them. "Right now I am merely being pragmatic." Dorian then motioned to the still steamy tub seated over by the fireplace before moving his hands to the lower hem of the tunic covering Garrett's torso. "Your bath awaits and you really will catch cold if you remain in your soggy clothes too long."

"I don't deserve you, you're so thoughtful Dorian," Garrett then chuckled as he captured the back of the shorter mage's head in one large hand. "Thank you," he said a moment before he pressed a long languid kiss upon Dorian's lips. A moment later he pulled back and limped his way over towards the tub.

It was a grand looking thing, made of fine brass and more than big enough for even his large frame. He cast the mage behind him a look over one broad shoulder then moved to strip off his soaking tunic.

By the Void, Dorian Pavus was never going to get used to seeing this man in any form of undress. A week ago he had, had to excuse himself from the room as Garrett's nurse had given his torso a sponge bath lest he frighten the poor woman with his rather _unabashed_ appreciation of the other man's body. Slab after slab of thick muscle laid over the Ferelden's tall frame, dark hair crisply dusting over the center of Garrett's chest and moving down in a tantalizing line that vanished beneath the waist band of the man's pants.

Dorian was certain he licked his lips as though he were eyeing a tantalizing dessert, which in a sense he supposed he was. Then Garrett moved to take off his pants and Dorian somehow found the strength to turn his gaze elsewhere. He even managed to move himself back over to his recently vacated chair and take a casual sip of his wine. ' _Masterful work Pavus',_ he congratulated himself silently.

He heard the wet thump of Garrett's pants slapping into a pile on the floor followed by the soft sloshing of water as the big mage settled into his bath. Then just as Dorian turned to offer to wash the big mage's hair the Ferelden let out a contented groan, "Dorian, this feels fantastic!"

That innocent little quip got the Tevinter's blood humming. He caught Garrett's gaze and blushed as the big man winked over at him. Okay, perhaps _not_ so innocent. The hulking Ferelden then spun himself around in the tub, leaning back against the opposite edge in order to face Dorian as he soaked. "Seriously though, this is wonderful, thank you."

"No, no, truly the pleasure is _all_ mine," the tanned mage retorted hotly as his gaze raked over every visible inch of the other man's upper body.

"I have to admit that I'm not really used to being pampered like this," Garrett said, a note of uncertainty entering his timbre. It suddenly occurred to Dorian then that he might actually be the first to dote upon the giant mage. The possibility was absolutely enthralling. He simply _had_ to know for sure, it was liken unto finding a curious virgin. The tanned mage set aside his glass and strode towards the bath, a positively predatory smile stretching his lips. Garrett looked up at him with curious eyes as he approached then those orbs sparked as Dorian shed his outer cloak, exposing his bare arms.

He moved behind the big mage and produced a vial of soap. "Wet your hair and I shall wash it for you darling." Garrett complied instantly, dunking his head beneath the water then resurfacing to tilt his head back against the edge of the tub.

"You do not have to do this you know, I am more than capable," the Ferelden native then said sounding somewhat sheepish. His uncertainty made Dorian chuckle as he set his fingers about massaging the soap into Garrett's thick mop of ebony hair.

"I _like_ pampering you amatus," the Tevinter mage murmured as he continued his ministrations. He increased the pressure of his fingers until Garrett's eyes fell shut and the big mage let out a positively intoxicating moan of pleasure. Dorian shuddered at the sound as it thrilled from the hulking man's barrel chest and straight down to his groin.

"You should join me."

"What?" Dorian's hands paused as Garrett tipped his head back further to grin widely.

"Take off your clothes and get in this tub Dorian."

"Very tempting darling but you should just relax and save our heated rendezvous for a night when you are no longer ailed by a sore body."

"Either you get naked and get in here with me of your own free will or I'm going to pull you in here and _ruin_ those fancy Tevinter clothes of yours." At that threat Dorian feigned a frightened gasp.

"You would not _dare_!" Suddenly Garrett's hand fisted in the center of the other man's vest and gave a promising tug.

"Oh, but I would."

"Fine, fine," Dorian said haughtily as he stepped back to pull his own top off. "Barbaric Fereldens, threatening a man's good sense of fashion, just to get me undressed! You sir, are a brute, and I'll have you know that I'm _only_ doing this for the good of my clothing. I do one nice thing for you and now look at me," he cried with a pout, "I am a hostage!" Garrett threw back his head and laughed, until the rest of the Tevinter mage's clothing fell to the floor. "A vulnerable hostage at the complete mercy of my captor."

Garrett sat up a bit straighter, his eyes drinking in the sight before him. Dorian was beautiful, a statue brought to life. Sculpted muscles bulged pleasantly over a perfectly proportioned frame, each angle of his body accentuated by his daring tattoos. Maker, Garrett hadn't even _known_ the other mage had tattoos! Then there was the matter of Dorian's _other_ assets. Garrett knew his mouth was probably hanging open, perhaps he was even drooling a bit, and he did not care one whit.

"You're staring amatus," Dorian breathed as he moved a hand up to lightly tug on his own already hardening manhood.

"Get _in_ here," Garrett growled in response and the Tevinter mage laughed as he moved to do as he was bid. He'd barely gotten his legs into the water when abruptly the big mage dragged him down so that he sat straddling his waist. Water sloshed around them, and Dorian was about to make some smart quip about the carpet being in jeopardy, but then Garrett kissed the words from his mind.

Dorian gasped and moaned unabashedly as the other mage rolled their hips together in the water, his large hands roaming the Tevinter man's skin. Their kiss gained friction until it became an open mouthed, tongue delving affair. The fire was getting hotter, the flames higher. Garrett's hands found the other man's backside, molding the muscle there, gentle fingers teasing along the seam. Dorian's hips bucked on their own accord, causing their hardened members to grind along one another, and he to gasp helplessly as Garrett's careful exploration sent electricity flooding through his veins.

"Maker you're lovely," the big Ferelden murmured as his teeth slid lightly down the side of the tanned man's neck, drawing out another involuntary shudder. Garrett knew he should probably have been more cautious about this, and indeed his timing might not have been the best, but he had not wanted to wait any longer. Ever since he had met Dorian something had just felt _right_ , and that feeling had not changed in the face of this more physical aspect of their relationship. It was so freeing to him, having a lover whom he did not have to walk upon eggshells with. Here with Dorian there was no guilt or concern to dilute the pleasure.

The big man closed his eyes and let his happy thoughts run freely through his head as he rained kisses across the Tevinter man's neck, shoulders, and chest. His tongue slowly circled one dark nipple, drawing it pertly up before kissing it sweetly at which Dorian let out a small elated shout. "I'm going to have you _tonight_ ," Garrett growled his hands squeezing the muscles of Dorian's thighs in promise.

"I want you," the mustached mage breathed roughly. "Though perhaps you should allow me to rinse your hair first?" Garrett had forgotten that there was soap in his hair. He shrugged, cast the man on his lap a cheeky grin then fell back beneath the water as he pushed Dorian's hips upwards. Water spilled over onto the floor as the Tevinter Altus' hands flailed to grip the tub's edge as the big Ferelden's mouth engulfed his length.

Dorian was torn between worrying that the man beneath him was drowning and reveling in the pleasure his ministrations forced upon his body. Then Garrett pulled back and resurfaced. His shaggy hair now hung down across his forehead, making his predatory smile all the more enthralling. He bent his head to press a fresh kiss upon Dorian's lips then wove one arm down around the tanned mage's waist.

Before the Tevinter man knew what was happening, Garrett lifted them both from the tub and made his way towards the bed. Dorian had had sex with many men, some lithe, some more sculpted, but they all paled in comparison to the towering rippling mountain of a man who held him now. Garrett set the shorter man down onto his feet and moved to retrieve a plush towel, then set about drying off his lover while continuing to teasingly touch and lick Dorian's still heat dampened skin.

After Dorian was properly dry the hulking Ferelden stepped back to roughly towel himself off. As he passed the towel over his head the properly aroused Tevinter mage took the opening he had been presented. Garrett let out a startled yelp as the tanned man's lips closed over the head of his own erection.

The towel fell to the floor forgotten, and Dorian started slightly as the Ferelden's thick fingers wove harshly into his hair, stopping him.

"Dorian…you…Maker you don't have to do that to me!"

Grey eyes stared up at him with question after question swirling through their depths, and Garrett instantly felt stupid. He had been on the receiving end of oral sex only once and while he had enjoyed it, Fenris had merely suffered through, and after seeing the basically disgusted look on the elf's handsome face he had never pursued a repeat performance. Slowly Dorian regained his feet, wordlessly taking Garrett's hand, and tugging the big mage over to the bed. They settled beneath the covers, saying nothing, and the hulking Ferelden worried that he had expertly doused the flame that had been building so sweetly between them.

Dorian reached out and began to stroke his right hand over Garrett's arm and torso, a soft smile resting upon his lips as his eyes wandered up to meet the other mage's own. "So…if you are willing to tell me, I would be interested in knowing why you stopped me?" Garrett swallowed hard, and averted his own gaze as he searched for the words that would explain. At his hesitation the Tevinter man snuggled closer, and gently nudged the bigger man into a tender kiss. "I am not asking for an answer so that I might judge it you know," Dorian whispered against Garrett's lips as his hand trailed down to begin pumping the other man's marginally diminished erection in his hand.

The Ferelden still hesitated, torn between the wonderful feeling of the tanned mage's touch and forcing himself to admit his awkward shame regarding this one thing.

"Do you not enjoy it," Dorian asked quietly.

"It…it isn't that," Garrett admitted with a loud sigh. "I have only been on the receiving end of _that_ particular gesture once…it did not go well. _I_ enjoyed it but my partner did not." The Tevinter man said nothing as he leaned forward to kiss along the other man's muscle packed collar bone.

"Tell me about the first time you had sex?" At that the big man let out another sigh, this one a soft defeated sound that rang in Dorian's ears. The tanned mage realized an extraordinary possibility in that moment. Garrett Hawke, as charming, open, and heated as the man was, had never had a truly full sexual experience. Dorian shifted, prodding his lover to roll over onto his back before moving to straddle his hips. "I have had many partners in my life," the Tevinter man began as he trailed his hands mindlessly over Garrett's body. "Each time it was a secret and rushed affair. Feelings did not factor into the interludes, each time it was a matter of convenience and timing. More often than not I have found myself face down in the sheets of some cold dust ridden guest room, or pressed into a wall…used, and then left alone. I told myself each time that it was both for the best and that _I_ too had used my partner…but it felt so much more hollow than that. And now here you are, and it is not so simple. I _desire_ you like this in every available facet, and I want you because I _feel_ for you. Whatever sex has been for you in the past, or for me…we must allow it to rest, or we will never know each other like _this_ to our full capacities."

Dorian leaned down over his lover and kissed him thoroughly then began kissing his way down the larger man's body. "I _want_ to do this for you, and trust me amatus I am going to _enjoy_ it. I have fantasized about taking you in my mouth many times. Please do not stop me unless you truly do not want this."


	21. Chapter 21: That's The Way You Need It

Garrett's body heaved a shudder at the other man's words.

Excitement rose to replace trepidation as renewed pleasure roared through Garrett. Large hands fisted tightly into the covers beneath him as a loud low groan ripped free from his lips. Dorian smiled as he swallowed over the other mage's length, rippling his tongue across the tantalizing throbbing flesh. He hollowed his cheeks and took the other man's impressive member as far into his throat as he could. The giant Ferelden let out a choked shout, his hips bucking upwards uncontrollably. Fingers pressed down into his hips to keep them firmly set against the bed and the dominant move made Garrett all the more aroused.

"I want you," the big mage managed to grind out, his fingers lightly weaving into Dorian's hair, tugging at a few silky strands. "Maker you're amazing! Please let me have you Dorian…I…I don't know if I can last if you keep doing this!"

In response the tanned mage hummed around the thick length between his lips then moved a hand to cup and mold Garrett's heavy balls. He relished in the way the skin there tightened at his touch, anticipating release. The big mage's chest rose and fell faster and faster until Garrett was gasping for every breath. "Dorian! Please…I can't, I don't want to before…before…"

 _How sweet_ , the Tevinter man thought as he doubled his efforts. His lover wanted to give as good as he was getting, but _he_ wanted to see what happened when Garrett lost control.

Lightening suddenly crackled across the big man's skin and Dorian froze as he watched the sparking blue-purple abate. Garrett's eyes flew open, and he was finally able to regain a piece of himself. He looked down at the Tevinter mage, still poised above his engorged member and moaned low in his throat. "Please Dorian, I want you…please?"

The big mage let out a small elated shout as the tanned smiling man climbed up over him for a kiss then sank his hips back down towards his engorged member. Hastily Garrett fumbled to reach into the drawer of his bedside table, and produced a small bottle of lubricant. Unlike his first attempt at lovemaking, this bottle had not been gifted to him as a joke by Isabela or anyone else. This he had purchased specifically for Dorian Pavus.

He popped the top off of the bottle and instantly the mustached mage let out a pleased hum of approval as the scent of spice and vanilla permeated the air. Garrett dumped a generous portion into his hand and reached down to slick himself with the cool goo, all the while his eyes ate up the sight of Dorian above him. "I enjoy watching you touch yourself amatus," the Tevinter said as he grinned hungrily down at his lover.

Again Garrett shuddered. "I enjoy watching you as well. Maker you're so handsome! I've wanted you for so long."

"Then you shall have me." The tanned mage moved to grip the base of the other man's member and gently positioned Garrett at his opening. Then he bent down to kiss the large Ferelden as he simultaneously sank down upon his length.

"Fuck," Garrett bit out, his large hands flying up to grip Dorian's hips tightly. The mustached mage hissed out a breath. He had been hoping to dazzle his lover with his prowess, but had apparently underestimated just how _big_ the Ferelden mage was in relation to his own body. "Are you alright," the burly dark haired man gasped as he glimpsed the brief flash of pain that moved through Dorian's eyes. "You should have let me help you get ready…"

Whatever Garrett had been about to say was lost when Dorian moved his hips.

"Dear sweet Maker," the big man whispered, watching enthralled as the man above him began to ride his cock. Between the red light of the fire and a crisp blue light of the moon shining in from the windows behind them, Dorian's body was cast in the most pleasing collaboration of hues Garrett could have ever imagined. For a while all the big man could do was gasp his every breath as his lover rose and sank with all of the grace of a dancer, his body undulating like a reed in a breeze. Those flexing muscles, those grey eyes closed, head tilted back in pleasure that was all his own. Intoxicating.

It did not take long for Garrett to feel himself losing control once more. Maker help him he tried, he was unused to not being in control of such an interlude. He closed his eyes as his body clenched helplessly under Dorian's relentless assault. He was going to cum, and in his mind he hadn't even given his lover an ounce of the pleasure he had received.

He _couldn't_ handle it.

Suddenly Dorian found himself on his back, Garrett's now blazing blue eyes pinning him as surely as his massive body. The massive Ferelden reached up to brush a few strands of Dorian's hair out of his face as he smiled down at him. "Tell me if I need to stop," he murmured as he pressed a sweet kiss. Then one large hand reached down to cup the Tevinter man's ass, lifting Dorian's lithe hips, before Garrett rammed forward.

He struck Dorian's sweet spot on the first thrust and the tanned mage let out a fearsome cry of pleasure that set the Ferelden's blood on fire. Garrett continued to move in measured powerful stokes, relishing in every noise that he ripped from his lover. Encouraged, the big mage moved his other hand down to stroke his lover's own pulsing member. Dorian could not think of another interlude that could come even close to this. He loved looking up at the big Ferelden as he strained over him, loved being touched, and being able to caress his lover back.

Soon the two panted for air together, Garrett's forehead pressing against Dorian's own as the tanned mage's nails dug into the big man's back. Each thrust became stronger and came more quickly than the one before until the two were interlocked in a firestorm of passion. "Amatus," Dorian breathed as he kissed Garrett's shoulder, "I'm going to cum!"

"Come for me," the big man demanded roughly. "Oh please, yes, come for _me_ Dorian!" The Tevinter mage let out a shout then buried his teeth in the thick muscle of the other man's neck as the first powerful pulses of his climax jolted through his body. Garrett's hips snapped forward and he heaved a loud shout that echoed through Dorian as he came. Lightning flared out all around the room with a massive boom of thunder following as the Ferelden spent his seed deeply inside his lover.

Breathless Garrett collapsed on top of the smaller man, his big body shuddering in the aftermath of what was easily the most powerful orgasm he had ever experienced. He let out a choked laugh as he struggled to heft himself up onto his elbows in order to keep from crushing Dorian. "Ah. That was…you felt so…you're so fucking amazing!" Garrett's exclamation was followed swiftly by a long delving kiss that took Dorian's breath away all over again.

When the big man pulled back Dorian sent him a dazzling sated smile. He moved a hand up to stroke back through Garrett's sweat dampened hair, relishing the atmosphere of their lovemaking that clung between them. The hulking Ferelden then gently removed himself from his lover and fell over onto his side. He pulled Dorian along with him, tucking the smaller man into his chest and kissing his hair before hefting a yawn. "You have drained me."

Dorian chuckled, "I feel the same…that was incredible." The grey eyed Tevinter snuggled closer, looping an arm around Garrett's waist. In minutes both men fell into a deep comfortable slumber.

* * *

Morrigan prowled through the night darkened corridors of the Keep, her collection of books clutched tightly against her chest as she hurried back towards the chambers that had been allotted to her and her son. As she approached a slightly open door she slowed to a halt. There was something oddly _creeping_ about that door, but unless she wished to go back out and around on the Keep's exterior walkways she would have to pass it. She took another step forward, moving herself as far to the opposite side of the hall as she could manage. Still the sinister feeling did not abate.

' _Blast it_ ', she thought as she swiftly turned to stride back the way she had come. She continued to cast glances back over her shoulder even after the hallway was far behind her. It was as if some bleak aura itself was haunting her heels, a thousand eyes deftly watching her from shadows she could not see.

She reached the upper battlements and shivered as she stared out into the pouring icy rain. She turned back once more and was met with a colder feeling of dread. So the witch bundled her cloak more tightly about herself and stomped out into the wind. Lightning crackled far overhead, followed swiftly by lower booms of thunder that rang in Morrigan's chattering teeth. She turned her gaze downwards for a moment as a particularly violent gust whipped the rain against her exposed face. When she looked back up lightning struck the tower further down the way, casting the person suddenly standing before her in a black silhouette.

The witch started, dropping her books as she fumbled for the knife at her waist.

"I would not bother with that if I were you. We both know you'd be dead before you drew that blade," a familiar voice said.

"Serena…"

The figure strode closer and indeed as another flash crackled overhead Morrigan could clearly see the copper haired rogue's stony face. She wore no cloak, and her own daggers were plainly belted at her sides. Serena paused when she was only a few steps away and raised an eyebrow at the witch. "It was you," Morrigan said suddenly realizing what had happened, "you're the one who's been chasing after me!"

"I need to speak with you about something," the Ferelden monarch calmly continued, ignoring the other woman's accusation.

 _'She is going to kill me…'_ , the wild's witch thought frantically. "You could have just asked me for a moment of time you know…unless you wanted to catch me alone like this, away from prying eyes hmm?"

"Perhaps," Serena responded without inflection. "The _business_ we have between us is very delicate in nature after all."

The last nine years flashed through Morrigan's mind, unraveling until her memories fell upon the night she had completed the ritual with Aiden. The night she had betrayed Serena Cousland's friendship by offering to sleep with the man she loved. It was too much to bear.

"Fine," the raven haired witch bit out, tears rushing unbidden to her eyes, "do what you will here. Say what you must…but you need to know…I _never_ meant to hurt you Serena! You were…we were _companions_ of a sort, I know you held no _love_ for me, but once so long ago you did respect me. I never meant to betray that when I told you of the ritual! But I did, and I have come to see how you could hate me so after that…after all I did. You, Aiden, and your husband all have every right to hate me…"

"Morrigan, you misunderstand." Serena's soft interruption made the witch's mouth snap shut. She had not heard the copper haired rogue speak to her in such and tone in years. "I did not seek you out to harm you. What happened that night, _that_ is a long forgotten hurt as far as what transpired between you and I. I did hate you for running off with my nephew, a part of me is _still_ bitter, but I also know that we cannot turn back time and change what did happen."

"Then why come find me like this? What business is there still between us?"

"You are still the mother of my brother's child. Soon enough Aiden will be reclaiming his post as the Commander of the Grey Wardens, which leaves _my_ own court lacking an Arcane Advisor…" Serena sighed, rolling her neck before pinning Morrigan once more with her striking gaze. "Let me be direct. I am offering Aiden's vacated position to _you_ , exclusively. If you were to take it, you would live at the Denerim Keep along with Alistair and myself. You and your son would be well protected, and you would be closer to Aiden and Zevran. Both of whom have expressed an interest in fostering a stronger relationship with Kieran."

Morrigan was stunned.

She could go back to Ferelden? These people, whom she had betrayed, would allow _her_ into their home…into their family…

"Why would you do this? I do not understand, would this not complicate things for you all?"

"It will, but we will find a way to coexist, we did it for a full year after all. Besides, I would like to see my nephew grow up, and Aiden wants to be there for his son. He always did Morrgian, from the moment he chose to do that ritual with you, he was prepared to be a father. Please consider?"

"…I…I shall have to think about this."

"Take your time," Serena said waving a dismissive hand as she turned to walk away. "But I would suggest that you make sure that whatever choice it is you make _this_ time, it is one that you can truly live with."


	22. Chapter 22: Drink Up

**Author's Note: Filler chapters are my least favorite to write. They always feel hollow even though I realize that they are often times necessary. They are evil. But they are a necessary evil. I know it is not the most grand chapter I have given you my dear readers, but I hope to upload something more substantial very soon. My dear readers I love you, please feel free to rate, review, and as always enjoy!**

* * *

 _"Do you have to leave tomorrow?" Dorian pouted up at Garrett, already knowing the answer to his question. Of course he did, the Inquisitor had waited another week just so that Hawke could be a part of her team. Still, Dorian wished that he could at least accompany them as well, but no._

 _Not this time._

 _For some reason Tara had gently informed him that he was to merely wait at Skyhold while she and the others took care of this Calpernia business._

 _"Unless Corypheus does the right thing and surrenders himself to our darling Inquisitor tonight, yes, I have to go. But I won't be gone long, take heart," the big mage said as he leaned down to kiss the side of Dorian's face. The Tevinter man smiled as a slight blush crossed his cheeks._

 _"I certainly hope not. I do dislike that I am not allowed to go along. Who will keep you safe?"_

 _"Tara would never let anything happen to me, she loves you too much, and don't forget that Cassandra and Vivenne will be with us as well. Between the two of them I probably won't be doing much fighting, and will be offering mostly boo-boo-be-gone magic and morale upkeep." Garrett's smile was dazzling then it shifted as he added somberly, "Besides…I feel a lot better knowing that you and Varric will be here with Marian."_

It was a large load to bear, but Dorian had nearly convinced himself that by morning he would be up for the challenge that would come having Marian Hawke as his personal charge.

Presently he was attempting to not linger on that particular topic of thought too heavily. Tonight he was to join his lover and their friends for a rowdy game of Wicked Grace. Garrett had gone to collect his cousin and the Ferelden monarchs for the event, leaving Dorian to groom himself and practice his poker face before deciding to make his way to the rooms Varric had secured for the occasion.

The tanned Tevinter stepped out of Garrett's chambers and moved down the hall, then froze as a sudden thought struck him.

Had anyone thought to invite Marian?

The auburn haired beauty had been released from the infirmary four days prior and the only reason any of them had known it, was because the proud warrior had stopped to apologize to Solas before sealing herself away in her own room. No one had seen her since. It was bad enough that Varric had paid a member of the Keep's kitchen staff to deliver three meals a day to Marian's doorstep just to make sure she had food of some kind. For his part Garrett worried, but he was just as lost as everyone else when it came to what could actually be _done_ about his elder sister.

That would have to change Dorian thought as he made his way back to stand before the warrior woman's shut door. And perhaps it could start changing right then? After another moment of hesitation the mustached mage lifted a hand and rapped his knuckles soundly against the door. His knock was met with an empty silence.

He cleared his throat as he knocked once more. "Marian," he then called out gently, "we are all going up to a private room to play Wicked Grace tonight. I was not sure if your brother had mentioned it or not, but I wanted to make certain you knew that you were invited, if you are feeling up to it that is. Your brother will be leaving with the Inquisitor tomorrow on a mission, I do not know if he told you that either…" Dorian fell silent, leaning close to the door in order to listen more closely for anything.

When he did not even hear the rustling of a blanket being pulled back up over a head the cold feeling of panic began to grow in his stomach as a new thought entered his mind. After everything, after being brought back from the brink of death…was it possible that Marian, in the midst of her despair, had _taken_ her own life? Dorian stepped back and nervously cracked his knuckles.

Should he break down the door just to be safe? Someone needed to check on Marian right, someone needed to actually _see_ that she was at least breathing? Sure if she was merely hiding and he entered her rooms by force he could expect a violent reaction, but that would be better than _this_. "Marian," he called out again. "If you do not wish to go I will leave you alone but would you please just…Can you _tell_ me at least what your decision is dear?"

More silence.

More unease.

Dorian frowned mightily and let out a defeated sigh as he turned to walk away. He was going to ask Garrett what he thought about breaking down the door, or even using a bit of blood magic to make sure his sister at least had a pulse. Anything had to be better than the damnable silence.

Suddenly the click of a lock opening echoed all around the tanned mage who halted his stride and turned his gaze tentatively back over his left shoulder. A second ticked by like an eternity, then the door cracked open and Marian Hawke's sickly pale face appeared in the faint candle light. Dorian visibly blanched at the sight of her, prompting the warrior woman to frown at him.

"As you can see," she snapped in a voice that lacked true conviction, "I am not fit for company." Dorian moved closer, half expecting Garrett's sister to slam the door shut in his face as he approached.

"I can see that you are a bit wrung out, but that is an easy fix dear. Would you like to accompany me to the card game? I can help you clean up a bit before we go if you wish?"

"Why are you doing this," it was part question part accusation, and it took a great deal of restraint for Dorian to not roll his eyes.

"Because I happen to care about your brother, and therefore you. You cannot stay locked away forever dear girl, now come," before Marian had a chance to shut her door once more Dorian shoved his way in. With the wave of his hand he lit the candles sitting darkly around the room and instantly steered the auburn haired warrior over to what looked suspiciously like an unused vanity seated in one corner of the room.

The Tevinter mage rummaged through the drawers of the vanity until he found a brush and ribbon, casting a few glances back at a now silent Marian as he did so.

She really did look wretched, like someone had come along and sucked all of the joy out of her and left her slightly sweaty pale body behind. His eye lingered for a moment on the sling encompassing her right arm before he moved to stand behind her and began brushing out the tangled mess of hair that hung down to her shoulder-blades. "Do you really need this," he asked using a pinky to tug at the sling as he brushed.

"My arm is useless…I am currently debating having it removed."

"So you have no feeling in your limb and you are unable to move it in the slightest," Dorian pried. For a moment Marian was quiet, her blue gaze drifting down to her exposed hand. Then in a voice that was barely more than a whisper she said, "I'll never hold a blade again…"

"So you _do_ have feeling and you _can_ move it? Marian that is far better news than what you are treating the situation as. Come now, take off the sling and show me how mobile you really are. Right now you are using that thing as a crutch, and excuse to wallow in a future you are predetermining without really testing."

"I can see why Garrett is so enamored with you," the warrior said with a small smile. She reached up to remove the sling, flinging it to land with a thump on the vanities top. Then her face fell into a concentrated frown as she lifted her right arm upwards, and flexed her fingers. The motion of her should was stiff, probably from being stuck in a sling, but that could be worked on. Her fingers barely twitched, which could mean permanent nerve damage, but it could also mean that those synapses could be rebuilt.

"I would recommend that you refrain from using that thing," Dorian said pointing at the discarded sling as he set the brush aside and set about braiding Marian's hair. "We shall start working your arm out tomorrow. I'll need to brush up on my reading regarding nerve damage, but I think with some physical therapy we can fix you up just fine."

"Do not lie to me Dorian," Marian said her breath hitching slightly. "Do you really believe that my arm…that I could use it again?"

"I will _not_ lie to you dear, I do not know for certain that you will return to your full former capacity, but I also see no reason not to try. Now, come, we have a card game to play." With that Dorian turned and moved towards the door, a smile tugging up the corners of his lips as he heard Marian move to follow after him.

When they entered the room there was a moment of stunned silence as everyone stared in surprise at Marian. Aiden recovered first and beamed at his younger cousin, raising a hand in welcome as he beckoned them to join the group. Dorian moved to take a seat beside Garrett, who was giving him a most curious look. Marian hesitated a moment then was quickly pulled down into the empty chair between Varric and Iron Bull.

A drink was set before each of the newcomers and cards were hastily dealt as the table erupted into a clamor of conversation. Aiden and Serena were engaged in a pissing contest, each boasting that they would certainly take one another's coin _and_ clothes. Alistair laughed at his wife's antics before turning to speak with Leliana about the Inquisition's abhorrent lack of cheese selection. Cullen blushed as he exchanged quiet pleasantries with Zevran who was seated on the Commander's right, all the while casting glances across the table at Tara.

Marian watched silently, her gaze once coming to meet her younger brother's. It quickly slid to the mage seated beside him, and when she looked back she smiled a smile that flashed in her eyes. Iron Bull then pushed the drink in front of the warrior closer to her hand and proclaimed that she would _need_ it, and that it might help bring some color back to her pasty face. After a few minutes of belligerent baiting from the Qunari the warrior's eyes sparked and she lifted her cup and took a long drink.

With her left hand Dorian mutely noted.

A few rounds of drink and cards later a few things had become crystal clear. Zevran and Aiden were both trying to make Cullen as uncomfortable as possible, which as even more easily accomplished considering that the twosome kept losing on purpose and making a grand scene about removing their clothing, complete with blatant sexual quips and lascivious eye movements towards the positively crimson Commander.

The Queen of Ferelden was none too shy either, purposefully losing the first round and removing her shirt in order to sidetrack her husband in to losing the next three rounds in rapid succession. Garrett held out one round longer than Dorian but was eventually forced to remove his own shirt. He did so after slyly looking around the table and prefacing his state of undress by saying, "Ladies…please, contain your orgasms."

Once he was bare chested Dorian had let out a rather appreciative groan. Winking at a slightly flushed Garrett and innocently proclaiming that the mage had said _nothing_ about any men containing their pleasure.

As the shenanigans continued, gaining momentum as more drink and tongues flowed freely, Dorian kept an eye on Marian who had begun grinning and exchanging quiet dialogue with Varric on her right. When she called Cassandra's bluff, resulting in the prudish warrior losing her pants, the auburn haired Hawke had let out a roaring laugh. It was music to many ears.

Two more rounds and Cullen, Aiden, Zevran, Alistair, and Cassandra were all down to their smalls. Tara had some point lost her pants, and Marian had just lost her shirt. A slightly more serious tension settled over the table as the next round began. A winner and clear loser was bound to be proclaimed this time, and the still mostly clothed members of the group were quietly beginning to place bets on who would wind up naked.

Cullen filled a few pockets when he lost to a cheekily smiling Josephine.

Flushed, and remotely tipsy, the big blonde had removed his underwear without leaving his seat preventing anyone from really seeing. However he just could not escape the troublesome twosome of Aiden and Zevran. "My my Commander," the elf purred as he glanced heated down at Cullen's lap, "I see you carry your sword at _all_ times! And what a fearsomely handsome blade it is!" As the absolutely embarrassed blonde attempted to shy away from the leering elf a long arm suddenly wrapped around his shoulders, and Cullen found himself trapped again Aiden Amell's naked chest as the crow-haired arcane warrior leaned over to appreciate the Commander's assets alongside his lover.

"Hmm," Aiden hummed low in his throat, "Zev is right! You wouldn't be of a mind to join us would you Cullen? I promise you'd have fun…"

"Alright you two that's enough," Serena slurred in a motherly tone. The Queen of Ferelden had undone her braid at some point and was leisurely slumped into her husband's side as she uttered her demands. To Tara it was equal parts adorable and hilarious, as was her beau's current state of undress.

"Perhaps we should turn in for the night," the Inquisitor offered with a small yawn. "After all we are leaving at daybreak no matter who has a hangover."


	23. Chapter 23: Exit Buddy

**Author's Note: As always I hope you enjoy my dear readers! And** SophusMao **I must truly thank you for you support once more :) Love you all!**

* * *

"Once more, come on you can do it!"

Muscles flexed taunt, sweat dripping down a flushed face, strips of hair clinging across a furrowed brow. A loud shout ripped free as pursed tight lips finally loosened. Marian hefted the stone up; pressing its small mass further up with her shaking fingers, then let the rock slip to the ground. The warrior clapped her hands together skipping around in a small circle, triumphantly gripping her right hand into a relatively tight fist before whirling around to face Dorian. Her smile warmed the mage's heart as she walked towards him.

"I did it," she panted as she moved to sit on the ground before her brother's lover.

From his perch upon a boulder Dorian motioned for her to give him her right arm, which he instantly began soothing with his healing magic. "I knew you could my dear," the tanned mage said with an answering grin.

Garrett had been gone for nearly two weeks but the stinging emptiness of his presence had been dulled as the Tevinter man passed much of his days in the company of his lover's sister. The two exercised Marian's arm carefully once or twice daily depending on her strength, which Dorian was pleased to note, was returning much more swiftly than even he had anticipated. Her shoulder was still a bit stiff in its movements, but he had expected this would be the case as this was where the injury had occurred. Her wrist however now moved as smoothly as it always had, and her fingers were gaining momentum and steadiness a bit more every day.

"When do you think I could try a sword," the auburn haired warrior asked, her dazzling blue eyes moving to meet with his own cool grey gaze.

"I do not wish to push you too fast," Dorian said carefully. "It is not that I do not believe we shall reach such a point, but I want to be careful. One wrong move with a hefty piece of steel could jolt your nerves and tear the muscle we have been rebuilding."

"Alright."

It was as simple as that. Where once Dorian had, perhaps not feared, but definitely been wary of Garrett's older sister, he now found a friend. Marian had warmed up to him after their second day together, and the tanned mage only wished such companionship had bloomed a little sooner between them. Past that horrid prickly shell of bluster and doom, was a girl so determined yet scared that it broke and mended Dorian's heart every time they spoke.

After their training on that fateful second day, she had asked him what he felt towards her brother and he had not flinched as he answered truthfully.

 _"Your brother is perfection. I certainly wanted him from the moment I laid my eyes on him, but now things are so much more than simple fascination. I love him; his wit, his kindness, his fierce loyalty…I cannot imagine anyone or anything better._

 _…when you were both lost in the Fade...his absence was the worst pain I believe I have ever felt in my heart. I regretted that I had never told him how I felt, that I had never made a point to seek him out and spend more time with him. I had to get him back, if I could. And now that he is here, and I have made my feelings known, I'll not ever let him go again, and no one could ever make me."_

She had stared at him, her eyes searching probing so carefully that Dorian understood why anyone might be unnerved completely, but not him. He _loved_ Garrett Hawke, and he had nothing to hide about that. Something had shifted in the air and the mustached mage had watched with bubbling giddiness as Marian's lips had turned up into a bright smile. _"My brother is a special man. He deserves someone who not only recognizes this, but who is also special in their own right. I think you are perfect for him."_

They had become friends then, the fastest stickiest kind of friends. It was still an odd awe that Dorian felt when he realized that he was perhaps in the same circle of trust and protection as Varric, but he likewise would not change it for the world. He loved this girl, he had no siblings to speak of but being around Marian made him feel like he had a semblance of family again.

"Say Dorian?"

"Yes dear," the tanned man said as he withdrew from his thoughts.

"You…you haven't seen Krem around have you? I was going to ask Iron Bull…but he hasn't been around either."

"Oh! Marian, the Chargers left the same day as your brother. Something about securing an alliance of sorts with the Qunari for our dear Inquisitor, you know, since she is elsewhere at the moment. Bull seemed the perfect ambassador to send, though I must say, if he felt the need to take his entire company with him, negotiations might not be as smooth as it all sounded." At that the warrior frowned and turned her gaze out towards the forest around them. "You like Krem don't you dear girl," Dorian asked softly.

In response the warrior let out a sigh and turned to lean back against his knees. Instantly he untied her braid and began finger-combing her long rich auburn hair, patiently waiting for her to speak. "I do," she said after a long pause. "He is a very thoughtful and sweet man, a combination I have a hard time resisting…but the last time we spoke he was very cross with me. I fear I may have ruined whatever it was that had been brewing between us. I'm good at that," she added, casting a sad glance back at her friend.

Dorian pressed his lips together thoughtfully as he continued to play with Marian's hair. "A budding romance or friendship is always a seemingly delicate thing. You were not yourself when you first emerged from the Fade, everyone knew it, but it seems to me that it had a greater effect of Cremisius. That tells me that his feelings for you are probably stronger than you are giving credit…what do you feel towards him?"

That brought Marian up short, her face moving into a somewhat startled look of surprise. _'Sweet girl, you're trying to see what move he will make before you even admit to yourself what you are feeling.'_

"I…I feel…I feel oddly at ease around him, and I do not like it. After…"

"After Anders, you wonder if you will ever be able to be close to someone like that, or even if you should."

"Yes," she sighed. "I am at odds with myself more than anything. I keep thinking I can break free of my worries, then something will happen to make my former resolutions seem so safe and smart. Then I shall see him, see how I am hurting him or my friends or Garrett, and I'll think I need to change again. I don't know what to do anymore Dorian. I've never been any good at finding the middle of things. The world used to be so black and white to me!"

"If that is how you best see the world then you can still view things that way, you just need to stop hesitating to place things on one side or the other. Right now, how you say you are dealing with things, you aren't making any decisions at all. Do you think Krem is a good man? Or do you honestly believe that he _will_ hurt you, not that he _might_ , because pain is always a possibility, intentional or not." As Dorian re-braided her hair the warrior thought hard. He had just finished tying the end when Marian spoke.

"I think that Krem is a good man. I know that he is kindhearted and gentle, yet also a capable warrior whom I admire. I do not know much about his past…but he certainly doesn't have any _spirits_ residing within him…Andraste's tits, why have I been holding him at arm's length?"

"Because you got hurt once, and badly," Dorian exclaimed as he gained his feet. "Give yourself some credit dear, not many people could go through what you did and come out so strong. I'll not enable you to wallow in your past but you need to accept the _good_ that you gained from your experience. Then use it to land yourself your very own utterly adorable Tevinter man!"

"You cheeky devil," Marian laughed as Dorian fanned himself. The tanned mage let out a small huff as the warrior woman abruptly pulled him into a fierce hug. "I am so happy that Garrett met you, you are indeed a wonderful man! Thank you for being my friend."

"Of course dear," the altus said and he wrapped Garrett's sister in his arms, placing a brotherly kiss on the top of her head. "Now then, let us head back to Skyhold, I promised the Commander that I would join him for a round of chess this afternoon and I need to prepare. The man is a snake when it comes to strategy!"

The twosome strolled back to Skyhold, entering by the gates seated near the stables. Marian wanted to go see what new mounts had come in, so the friends waved their goodbyes before Dorian set off towards the Keep.

As he passed the training yard he paused, his keen gaze seeking out Cullen's form. The Commander was in the midst of a gathering of new Templar recruits, giving them a demonstration on how to handle Rage demons. He briefly caught Dorian's eye, nodding a subtle 'hello' before refocusing on the task at hand. The Tevinter mage grinned and moved over to the ring, leaning against a bare patch of railing as the Commander began instructing pairs of recruits in duels.

Cullen Rutherford was a spectacular specimen of a man and Dorian silently congratulated his friend Tara on her catch. As the hour wore on the mustached mage began to feel eyes upon him, and not the appreciative friendly kind either. Carefully Dorian moved his gaze around the practice ring until he caught the menacing glares of three Templars standing across the pit.

Ice poured into Dorian's body as he looked at those men who were watching him. The maliciousness in their eyes struck deeply into the pit of his stomach. He knew that tensions had risen at times between the mages and Templars of the Inquisition, but never before had _any_ Templar so blatantly placed such a glare upon _him_. The men abruptly moved away from their places at the railing, and began moving towards where Dorian stood. Alone.

Something screamed inside of him to run, but he would not. He as a friend of the Inquisitor, a part of her inner circle of trusted companions no less. He had no reason to back down, no reason to shy away. But did he ever want to, especially when the largest of the three stepped up to stand directly in front of him.

The Templar was nowhere near as big as Garrett or his lover's equally large cousin Aiden, but he was only a few inches shorter than Cullen, which meant that Dorian had to look up to meet his gaze. The armored man was frowning, his eyes bearing down into the Tevinter man's like daggers, piercing him to the core. "You're the blood mage."

Dorian knew that he flinched. He had expected to hear something about himself being a mage, but his _darker_ magic…he had been so discrete…

 _Other than at the Winter Palace…_

The tanned man swallowed hard fighting to keep a mask of calm on his face. There was no real way to respond to such an accusation. Even if he did not know an ounce of blood magic, from the looks on the faces of these men, he doubted that it would have mattered. They had already condemned him, now the only question that remained was what they were going to _do_. "Mages like _you_ have already _destroyed_ much of this world," the Templar continued in a low voice.

"Then you do not know _me_ very well," Dorian said curtly, turning to look back to Cullen in the ring. If anything happened he supposed he could scream for the Commander to come rescue him. A firm hand gripped his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh, forcing him to turn back to face the Templar.

"I know all that I _need_ to _blood mage_."

"Dorian my friend!" The accent thickened voice of Zevran Aranai broke through the tension like a stampede of druffalo. The blonde elf stepped neatly up to Dorian's side and hooked one foot on the lower railing of the practice ring, a knife spinning idly in his left hand. He used the tip of the blade to pick at something in his teeth as he eyed the occupants of the ring. "Are you here to survey our handsome Commander? I could not blame you. Our Inquisitor has _fine_ taste indeed!" Almost as an afterthought the elf's gaze clicked over to take note of the three Templars. "Who are your companions? I have never seen _them_ with _you_ or _the Champion_ before."

' _Thank the Black Divine, the Maker, the Crows, whoever had sent Zevran to his side at that moment'_ , Dorian thought. "They are new recruits of Cullen's," the mage said in a voice steadier than he had thought he could manage.

"We were just leaving," one of the men said.

"I thought you might be," the slender assassin quipped with a wicked grin. "And I might _suggest_ that wherever you go, intend to _stay_ there my _friends_."

"Now listen here elf," one of the Templars began in threatening tone.

"No no, dear Templar, _you_ would be wise as to listen to _me_. While I might know a man who, even without _his_ magic, could crush a man's skull with one hand behind his back, you would do well to know that he may not be the most dangerous one in the confines of this Hold. Go on your way now, you are distracting me from ogling the Commander." For a long moment Dorian thought that all hell was about to break loose, there was no way that Zevran's _thinly_ veiled threats were going to go unanswered, it was not in the nature of these men to allow such slights to simply slide away.

But then after casting him and the elf one last dark glare, the trio moved away and Dorian heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he whispered as he moved to stand beside Zevran, one hand absentmindedly rubbing at his now sore left shoulder.

"Do not mention it," the blonde assassin murmured. "My own man is a mage," he added simply and Dorian nodded.

By the Void he could not wait for Garrett to come home.


	24. Chapter 24: In The Face

Dorian was beginning to feel like a caged animal. He hid his distress well, even if only for Marian's sake, but if the truth were told he was fraying apart at the seams, and his internal turmoil was beginning to affect his friendship with Hawke's sister no matter his attempts otherwise. It had nearly been a month since Tara, Garrett, and the others had ventured from Skyhold and not a single missive had come regarding their progress, or at least none that Dorian was aware of. He had even gone to Leliana's chambers demanding to just _know_ if she had received any reports regarding the Inquisitor or his lover's safety.

 _"I'm sorry Dorian, there has been nothing."_ Or so the Spymaster had said, the tanned mage honestly did not know if he should believe her or not. Not that it really mattered she wasn't giving him anything if she _did_ know.

Aside from his lover and friend's prolonged absence there was another matter that strained Dorian's nerves to no end. Those Templars from the training ground had left a bitter taste in his mouth, and though he'd thought that he would shake the feeling in perhaps a day, even now he found himself starting at shadows. They had not openly _threatened_ him, and Zevran's warning for them to steer clear had been forceful enough, but all the same the Tevinter mage worried. There had been something exceedingly predatory in the way those men had looked at him. Now he felt as if he might be being stalked.

He wasn't about to voice that concern to anyone else either.

He knew that it was most likely just an overly active imagination on his part. After all he was certainly far from helpless, and more often than not he had some form of company with him to deter any sort of underhanded attempt. He felt the safest when he was with Zevran or Cullen, and the most vulnerable when he was with Marian. Even if her right arm had been at full strength, the idea of putting his lover's sister in harm's way made the Tevinter mage feel sick and cowardly. He still tended to the warrior woman's arm, but he was always careful to make a large show that they were going on a walk in the forest together. Marian Hawke would not be missed so easily, and the wrath of Aiden Amell was a dark thing indeed.

Marian had tried to coax him into talking about his skittishness, but he had brushed her off and told her that it was merely her brother's absence weighing on him. She had accepted his answer, but not wholeheartedly. Thankfully she did not press, nor had Zevran spoken to anyone else about what had happened at the training ring. It was just as well, he did not want to go running for cover if there was indeed no true danger to be found.

Today the grey eyed mage stalked the library, attempting to read a few different volumes to no avail. Between jumping every time a new face appeared at the top of the staircase and his own thoughts running away to Garrett Hawke's face, he just could not muster the focus. With a heavy sigh Dorian put his current volume back into its place on a shelf and turned to walk back down into the Keep. He needed to get a grip.

As he made his was down to the main hall a young recruit entered the stairwell, and Dorian staggered to a halt. It was one of the recruits from the training yard, the only one who had not spoken. Today his face was very different, a look of utter urgency in contrast to the smug silence he had offered over a week ago. The young man's gaze collided with Dorian and he also stumbled to a stop. "You, mage…do you know where the Commander is?"

"No I do not," the tanned altus said carefully, warry, as unease settled in his stomach. "Why? What is going on?"

"This missive," the recruit said as he produced a crumpled and stained coil of parchment. "It was tied to a bird that dropped dead into the midst of the training grounds. It is not one of the lady Spymaster's though and there is a mark upon it we did not recognize. We thought it would be best to give it to the Commander but no one can find him."

"Let me take a look," Dorian said moving forward. The parchment felt damp in his hands as he turned it over, then he felt his heart lodge firmly in his throat.

The mark of the Champion, hastily scrawled and smeared, but clear as day to the Tevinter, stared hauntingly up at him. "Come," Dorian said, "we shall find the Commander." The two moved down into the outer landing of the main hall. As he walked the mustached mage pried the parchment open with shaky fingers. Within was a blotched message, written in a hand…that was not Garrett's. As he read the first few lines a new creeping feeling washed through Dorian. The message was vague, too vague to possibly be from _anyone_ from Tara's party…

He realized that it was a trap a split-second too late. The young Templar suddenly cast a surprisingly powerful Smite upon him, the sensation of being cut off from his magic stole the off guard mage's breath. Then hands settled upon the middle of Dorian's back and he found himself being thrust through a now open doorway. He fell onto his knees, heard the door shut and lock behind him as two sets of strong hands gripped his upper arms.

Dorian tried to shout for help, but the moment his mouth opened a thick strap of cloth pulled between his lips, effectively gagging him. The thought that had haunted him for more than a week was coming to fruition and the tanned mage gazed up helplessly at the three Templars from the training ring. What were they going to do to him? Beat him, torture him, Smite him until he could no longer function, or worse kill him for being a blood mage? As the younger recruit and the man who had dared to engage Zevran held him still, their combined Smite's effectively shutting out his magic, the larger Templar moved towards him and Dorian saw what they intended.

He struggled as mightily as he could, making as much fuss as the gage would allow, the whole time his wide grey eyes remained fixated on the brand in the shape of sunburst throne drawing near him.

* * *

Marian really believed that she would be ready to hold a sword by next weeks' time and she aimed to pester Dorian into agreeing. She reached the Inquisition's library, her eyes seeking out her brother's lover, but surprisingly finding not a trace of the man. She wandered the room wracking her brain. She was certain that Dorian had told her that he would be in the library until their afternoon session of therapy.

"Excuse me," the warrior woman said as she spotted one of the library workers. "Have you seen the Tevinter man who always comes up here? He sits over there," she added pointing to the alcove that Dorian usually inhabited.

"Master Pavus," the young man said, a slight blush moving across his face. "Yes, he was here just a few minutes ago, but he left…didn't seem to be able to get his head in a book today you know."

"Just a few minutes," Marian repeated as her brow furrowed. If he had really only just left, she would have passed him on her way up? "Are you certain?"

"Yes milady," the man said as he bobbed his head, "if you'll excuse me." As the young man walked away something very much like dread settled over the warrior woman. She hadn't been able to figure out why but as of late Dorian had been acting…well he'd been acting a fair bit like Fenris had before Denarius had been dealt with. Something was eating away at the mage, hunting his thoughts, and now he had vanished.

 _I have to find him._ It was a simple thought but also one that spurred the warrior into action. Quickly she raced back down the stairs. There was only one hallway between the stairwell and the main hall so unless Dorian had gone into Josephine's offices just before she reached the Keep she _would_ have seen him on her way in. As she reached the hallway leading out into the main area of the Keep Marian took one look at the long line of doors leading to the main hall and made her decision.

The first door caved in with a resounding boom beneath Marian's booted foot, "DORIAN!"

* * *

Dorian's struggles increased tenfold once he had spotted the tranquility brand, and even without his magic, fear gave him more strength. He lurched away from the lyrium dipped metal rod, gaining himself a curse and a hard slap from one of the Templars. Then he heard Marian call his name. Tears burst into his eyes, he did not want her to get hurt because of him, but at the same time becoming Tranquil was a fate worse than death!

"Those who oppose thee shall know the wrath of heaven," the large Templar began to chant as the recruit on Dorian's right reached a hand up to hold his face still. "Field and forest shall burn. The seas shall rise and devour them."

In the hallway beyond, still remotely far away the captive mage heard another door splinter open. "DORIAN!"

 _'If she finds me, please, let Cullen be walking in the hall. Please let someone be with her. Whatever happens to me happens, but please keep that dear girl safe.'_

"The wind shall tear their nation from the face of the earth. Lightning shall rain down from the sky. They shall cry out to their false gods, and find silence." The Templar pulled back, aiming the brand directly at the center of Dorian's forehead.

Marian reared back to kick open the next door in line when something stopped her. Her gaze fixated on the fourth door from the main hall, riveting as if someone had painted _smash here_ upon its surface. Compelled beyond all reasoning the warrior woman raced down the hall and shouldered her way into the room.

* * *

From his place on the floor Dorian watched the warrior blink once, and then her eyes became dark with a fury he had never before seen. She flew forward like an avenging angel, ripping the Tranquil brand from the large Templar's hands and kicking him across the room. Before his body had even finished crumpling to the ground the auburn haired warrior whirled and rammed the branding rod through the younger recruit's face on Dorian's left, killing him instantly.

The third Templar had barely gained his feet, drawing his sword free of its sheath, and then Marian was there. He took one slash at her, and the warrior woman blocked the blow with a hand made of iron that locked around the man's wrist before bending it back with a loud snap. She pulled the blade from the Templar's grasp as he screamed in pain, and carved a wide red stripe across his torso. Her next blow split the man in half, his blood painting the wall and floor as his corpse fell with a wet thud.

Then she turned slowly as the last Templar regained his footing and drew his own sword. Dorian watched stunned as a grim frown pulled the corners of Marian's gore smeared face downwards. Fear roiled from the large Templar, and it made him desperate. He charged forward swinging wildly. The eldest Hawke smoothly blocked and evaded his attacks until she had him backed against the outer wall. "May the Maker _spit_ on your soul," Marian growled before she darted forward. Her stolen blade cleaved her opponent's sword arm from his body in one clean strike. Her next blow spilled the still living man's innards to the floor. Then she kicked him back through the window behind him.

* * *

Cullen and Aiden had heard the screaming from the courtyard and had come running. Both men staggered to a halt when an utterly butchered body splatted to the ground in front of them on the Keep's steps. "Maker's balls," the Commander breathed as he recognized the face of one of the newer recruits from the Templar Order.

"Now is not the time to be squeamish," Zevran quipped as he suddenly appeared, racing past the paused humans as he rushed to what he thought would be Marian's aide. Aiden and Cullen recovered rather quickly and dashed along after the elf. They crashed into the hallway leading to the stairway up to the Inquisition library, and were greeted by Josephine's haunted pale face. The ambassador had come running to see what was going on the moment she had picked up on the eldest Hawke calling Dorian's name.

The usually talkative Antivan native sank down, her eyes fixated on the splintered doorway across the hall from where she now slumped. Cullen drew his sword and moved towards the door, offering Josephine a passing glance to make certain she had not also been hurt. Aiden and Zevran crowded into the doorway behind the Commander who blanched when he was finally able to see inside the room.

"Wow," the arcane-warrior breathed.

"That is a _lot_ of blood," the elf said, sounding remotely impressed.

"Dear sweet Maker…Dorian!" Cullen quickly sheathed his sword once he took in the mess of corpses in the room and moved to the still gaged mage's side. He removed the strip of fabric carefully and asked, "What happened?"

"You have a problem in your ranks Commander." Three sets of eyes jolted to fall upon a blood soaked Marian as she turned to face them, sword still clutched in one shaking hand. "These bastards were trying to make him _Tranquil_."

* * *

"Hey…are you okay?"

Hours had passed since the blood bath in the storage room, and as Dorian looked up at the woman who had been his savior strangely enough he could honestly say, "Yes." The moon hung high in the sky, but the Tevinter mage was not yet tired. He currently lay propped up on his lover's bed, and scooted over, patting the empty space beside himself. "I am alright, thanks to you…how is your arm dear?"

"Sore, and a bit stiff," Marian candidly answered, "but considering what could have happened to _you_ , it is more than worth it. Zevran told me about those men bullying you the other day by the way. You should have told someone Dorian." With a flop Marian collapsed down amidst the pillows beside her friend, sending him a gently reprimanding gaze as she did so.

The Tevinter man sighed, "I know…but…"

"I understand _why_ you did not," the warrior interjected softly as she reached over to scratch her nails through his hair. "I just wish you had so I could have protected you a little better." At that Dorian let out a barking laugh.

"I was _trying_ to protect _you_ by not saying anything to you specifically, and I did not want to cause trouble on the offhand chance those men had just been asserting their dominance or some such thing." As Marian scratched the mustached mage began to truly relax, and the stretched out his hand to send soothing magic through the warrior's arm. She sighed contentedly and sank back more fully against the pillows. The panic had subsided a few hours after the incident. Partially thanks to the storm of righteous fury that Cullen had turned into once he had learned the full extent of what had happened. If any more outbursts towards mages occurred any time soon after the terrifying lecture the Commander had given today, Dorian would eat his staff.

"I hope your brother gets back soon," Dorian muttered, "though I'll admit I do not relish recanting this tale to him."

"Or Tara," Marian added with a small sleepy laugh. "Do not worry he will be back soon enough, and we can tell him together if you like? You're family now Dorian, I hope you realize that."

"I know Mar, thank you…that means more to me than you could ever know…the fact that you came for me…"

"You came for me and my brother when we were in the Fade Dorian. This goes both ways," she said as her eyes fell shut. "I'm sleepy."

"Me too…goodnight dear friend."

"Goodnight."


	25. Chapter 25: Every Damn Time

They reached the Keep at close to four in the morning, slipping quietly into the courtyard, and unsaddling their mounts in a half-asleep haze. Garrett knew that the moment he found his bed he was going to sleep like the dead. His gaze wandered from companion to companion until it fell upon the lady Inquisitor. The rogue's fingers were still swollen from the intense fighting they had faced at the Shrine, hands trembling slightly as she separated her saddlebags from their ties.

"Let me get that for you." Tara had just tucked her hands beneath either end of her saddle, silently willing herself to have the strength to remove it from her mount's sweaty back, when Garrett Hawke's deep voice rumbled behind her. She gave a small start, her emerald eyes flickering back over her shoulder to meet with his deep blue. "You should go find your advisor, give your report…or perhaps go straight to bed. We all need some rest."

"Thank you Garrett," the petite woman said with a sad smile. "Make sure you get some rest yourself."

He intended to, he thought to himself as he set about putting away the tack and brushing down his and Tara's horses. He saw to it that they were fed and watered, praising the animals in a hushed tone for their stamina and bravery. A few moments he wondered if he wasn't also talking to himself. The Shrine had been and abominable place, just as bad as the Fade, or perhaps worse in that _none_ of the horrors they had witnessed had been mere dreams.

The big mage stumbled his way up into the Keep and down the long hallway to his chambers. Knowing that Dorian would most likely be asleep within he entered as quietly as he could. He had to swallow his shout of surprise when he stepped into the room and a silhouette that was definitely not his lover sat up on his bed. In a heartbeat the embers of the near dead fire flickered to life, illuminating the room, and Garrett let out his breath in a low hiss of amazement.

"Mar?"

"Hello Garrett," the warrior said as she deftly slipped from her place on the bed, rubbing at her eyes as she strode towards him. "It's good that you are back," the eldest Hawke added as she wrapped her younger brother in a hug. "And all in one piece I see?"

"I'll be having some strange dreams I believe," the big mage said in a hollow voice, "but terrors aside, yes, we all made it through just fine. How were things here?"

"We shall talk more in the morning," Marian said and instantly she could _feel_ tension rolling off of her brother.

"What happened? Is it your arm?"

"No," the warrior whispered as she lifted her still somewhat sore right limb and twirled her fingers. " _It_ is much better thanks to Dorian…he had a run in with some fresh Templar recruits yesterday. He is _fine_ , as you can see, sleeping like a babe. So please don't go making a huge fuss about it?"

"What do you mean when you say _had a run in_ Sis?" Marian sighed long and low. "You aren't going to let this up until I tell you are you? …I thought it might end up like this," she muttered through her teeth. "Fine, I shall tell you what happened, but you must promise to keep yourself in check and I shall preface by letting you know that everything has been _taken care of_."

"The way you are talking you make it sound like what you really mean to say is 'don't rush off to kill anyone because they're already dead'."

"That's…another way to put it I guess…"

"Mar, _tell me_ ," Garrett growled, his weariness forgotten, and in its place boiled protective anger. Marian reached out to pat her brother's hand as she began to recount the events of the previous day. When she got to the part about the tranquil brand, the flames of the fireplace flared dangerously, but to his credit Garrett did not begin shouting his rage or breaking things, though if the look in his eyes was any indication he very much wanted to do both.

"I killed them, all of them, it took perhaps seconds to end their collective worthless lives, and when Cullen was informed of what happened he tore through Skyhold like some force of nature. Anyone who even blinked wrong during his lecture was stripped of all rank. He made sure that the Inquisition's stance regarding their mages was heard loud and _clear_. It's just as well, if he had not reacted in such a volatile manner I _would_ have taken the matter into my own, renewed and capable hands."

"He must have fallen asleep once the shock wore off," Garrett whispered, his gaze falling onto the slumbering form of his lover.

"Actually no," Marian said catching the big mage off guard. "Dorian is _not_ like…once the danger was passed and dealt with, he snapped back very quickly. The last we spoke he said he was alright and that the only thing bothering him was your absence." The warrior's last few words made Garrett's anger rush out of him in a clean wave.

"He missed me?"

"Of course," Marian hissed with a smile, slapping her brother lightly. "Now, I am going to my own chamber, and you are going to climb into that bed and cuddle him. He deserves it after the last month he's spent, not hearing even _one_ word from anyone. It was driving him mad not knowing if you were at least safe. Good night my dear brother."

Once Marian had gone, shutting and locking the door behind her with a soft click, Garrett striped off his sweat stained robes and armor letting the whole mess fall into a pile. He then moved carefully to the bed, slipping between the covers as gently as he could considering his mass. Then he wrapped an arm around Dorian's waist and pulled the slightly smaller Tevinter mage back up against his own body.

Instantly grey eyes flew open as the tanned mage twisted around to find his lover smiling down at him. "You're back," the mustached mage cried out happily a moment before he threw his arms around Garrett's neck and dragged the big mage down for a thorough kiss. The hulking Ferelden was only too happy to oblige, his large hands restlessly roaming over his lover's still clothed body.

"Marian is in her room now, you don't need these mo chuisle."

"Mo chuisle," Dorian gasped as Garrett began to undress him, lips pressing against each inch of freshly exposed flesh. "That phrase, what does that mean," the grey eyed mage asked as he shuddered pleasantly beneath his lover's heated attention. Garrett gently moved back so that his eyes could lock with Dorian's, a thumb moving along the handsome mage's jawline as he said firmly.

"My pulse."

* * *

Tara was _very_ close to losing her temper. She was tired, her entire body felt as if it were made of patchwork bruises and blisters, it was four in the morning for _Maker's sake_! She had been gone for nearly a month, fighting demons and abominations day and night, and her fucking Spymaster was now yelling at her, because she had _dared_ to release an innocent man from a fate worse than death.

"He could 'ave been useful," Leliana spewed, her face a mask of fresh rage, while Tara's was slowly settling into a look of unbridled contempt. "He could 'ave helped us get to Calpernia, understand how she works! And you just let 'im go!"

"LELIANA!" Even the crows halted their cawing as Tara's shout faded away. The Spymaster whirled to face the Inquisitor, her eyes blazing with anger, but now there was also a hint of something else. Hesitation, fear, it did not matter to the equally enraged marked woman. "I _did_ what was _right_. I do not care one bit if you see it as stupid, I came to inform you of what _happened_ at the Shrine, not to debate my decisions there. If you had wanted him alive, trapped, a _prisoner_ of the most abhorrent concoction of magic I have ever seen you should have gone yourself and _never_ told _me_ what you did or found there."

The red head paused, uncertain what to do or say, so stunned was she by the Inquisitor's brisk speech. "Now," Tara continued, "I am going to bed. Figure out what to do with what you _have_ gained from my venture. And if you ever _dare_ to question me again about _this_ I shall see to it that you remember _your place_." With that said Tara turned on her heel and marched out of the room. Her stride lengthened, each foot pounding into the earth as she moved out into the courtyard. Beneath the light of the moon some of her anger faded, leaving behind the same crawling uncertainty she had felt the moment she had been made to choose the Magister's fate.

She paused, her gaze moving to the pale sliver hanging in the sky, then falling over to the tower that housed Cullen Rutherford. Light flickered from behind the window that faced the yard below, and like a moth to a flame, Tara was drawn. She practically bounded up the flight of stairs leading to the battlements, managing to slow her pace as she approached the Commander's office door. For a moment she hesitated, her right hand lifted in clenched fist just inches from the wooden barrier. Perhaps Cullen was asleep, and she did not wish to wake him, knowing how precious little sleep the man got.

She never got the chance to decide. The door abruptly swung open, Cullen's armor-less form filling the space before her. "Tara." He breathed her name in such a way that it shivered down the rogue's spine.

"Hello Cull…!" Before she could even speak his name, the tall Commander had looped one strong arm down around her waist and dragged her forward. She barely noticed the door closing behind her, as Cullen pressed his face forward to lock his lips against her own. The kiss reverberated down Tara's body, settled in the pit of her stomach, and then spread like a slow burning flame.

"You're back," the Commander breathed against her lips as he pulled back to survey her face. "All went well I take it?"

"Yes," Tara replied in a shaky tone, "everyone is alive and well…though Leliana is rather upset with me…"

"Why?" The petite rogue let out a frustrated sigh and slipped under the large blonde's right arm to begin pacing the room. After several laps Tara moved to lean back against the edge of Cullen's desk, chewing her bottom lip.

"There was a man…a mage, who happened to be Calpernia's former master, at the shrine. He was captured by Corypheus and being held in a magical binding spell…it forced him to tell the truth and prevented him from killing himself. He was a great scholar and he could have been very useful to the Inquisition, but I _could not_ … let him remain in such a state. I disrupted the barrier and granted him peace. Leliana disagrees with my course of action and I don't give a damn what she thinks I should have done. I know I did what was right!"

Tara impassioned speech was met with silence, that had her thoughts scrambling until Cullen moved to stand directly in front of her. One large hand moved up to cup her chin between strong fingers, moving her gaze upwards until it met with his own. Carmel and chocolate fire greeted her, sparking excitement. "I love that about you, you know. Your iron will to _do_ what is _right_ , not what is most _strategic_. There are too many people here wanting victory at _any_ cost, I would not be able to serve under anyone who did not act as nobly as you do…Maker's breath you are a wonder Tara."

That said Cullen leaned in and began pressing soft little kisses against the Inquisitor's lips as he continued to murmur his thoughts to her. "You make me believe that we can do this, that there is a better day coming, and soon. You make me think that _I_ can become the man I have always wanted to be…that there may be a future past all of this evil and fighting. You are a light in the shadowy corners of this world. That you are _mine_ is a blessing I can never understand deserving."

"You say the sweetest things, you really are a romantic at heart aren't you," Tara giggled as she shifted her hands across the desk behind her. Her wrist clipped the edge of an ink bottle, sending it careening to the floor with a semi-loud crash. Two sets of eyes bolted down to the shattered remains then the Inquisitor turned back to apologize. Her words died on her lips as she caught sight of the absolutely gleeful mischievous look glinting in the Commander's eyes.

With one sweep of his right arm Cullen sent the remaining contents of his desk flying to the floor. Papers, quills, missives, maps, all of it collected in a splayed heap around them. The burly warrior then lifted Tara's small frame up onto the now bared desk top, his own harder body following suite. He settled against her, kissing her as he ground their hips together. "I know that you have just returned…that you need rest, but I don't want you to leave again so soon…stay with me tonight," Cullen asked even as he began to divulge Tara of her armor.

The petite rogue's blood began pumping through her body faster and faster until she thought she might explode. "Take me to bed Cullen," Tara whispered as she tenderly bit his lower lip. The big warrior easily slid back to stand on the floor, lifting the Inquisitor easily into his arms, holding her against his chest even as he scaled the ladder leading to his bed. He continued to undress her and she him until they were both in just their underwear, at which point they promptly fell back onto the bed.

They laughed as they became tangled in the covers, then snuggled close, hands and mouths roaming leisurely as they settled back against the mattress and one another. Cullen wanted to kiss every inch of skin he could, beginning with Tara's sensitive ears and then continuing downwards. He had just mustered the courage to place a hot open mouthed kiss upon the Inquisitor's inner thigh when he heard her deep even breathing. Slightly startled, the Commander looked up. A slow smile spread across the handsome blonde's face as he moved back up to curl himself around a _very_ asleep Tara.

Something told him that the rogue would be upset with herself for falling asleep like this, so Cullen made himself and her a promise right then. No matter what the next day brought them, he was going to make sure that they had some time to themselves


	26. Chapter 26: Oh So Sweet

Sunlight warmed Tara's face, coaxing over her still half-sleeping eyes as she rose from the depths of her much needed slumber. As she awoke her mind slowly began chewing over the events of the night before. Finally returning to Skyhold, being chewed out by Leliana, the ink bottle…Maker's breath Cullen! She had fallen asleep in the midst of kissing him! Tara squeezed her eyes tightly shut as a crimson flush spread over her. She silently cursed herself, wanting to weep over the whole affair. What kind of woman _fell asleep_ whilst a man such as Cullen Rutherford was paying homage to their body?

 _'A stupid one',_ the Inquisitor's mind taunted in a disapproving tone. She groaned as she pressed the heels of her hands hard against her eyes. "Why…why…WHY, OH!?"

Just as she had begun to curse herself, hands gripped Tara's thighs firmly, and an open mouth pressed a kiss against her left knee. Startled the rogue lifted the covers and gasped as she found the very man she had been thinking of settled comfortably between her legs. He smiled up at her, her gaze catching on the scar across his upper lip as he kissed the inside of her opposite thigh. "I'm glad you got some rest," he said softly, his voice sending electricity jolting through Tara's body. "You are going to need it. I barricaded the doors and had all of our appointments canceled for the day…"

"Sweet Maker…" Tara breathed as her handsome Commander moved to use his teeth to tug at the hem of her underwear. "You aren't offended then?"

"By what, you falling asleep in my arms? I could never be offended by _that_. I am all too happy that you feel safe enough to rest in my arms. It makes _this_ all the more special to me," he continued as he slid his hands up to begin divulging Tara of her garments. She shuddered in the wake of Cullen's advances. He was rarely so bold when it came to her, and the dominance he showed her now was simply intoxicating to the rogue.

He climbed up over her, reaching beneath her to undo the bindings around her chest, and it was then that she realized he was already naked. She could _feel_ him, pulsing against her belly, and it made her heady with desire. She threaded her fingers up into his hair and pulled him down against her for a fierce kiss. Their lips and tongues dueled as hands roamed freely. She loved the feeling of his skin against her, warm and thick. Her fingers clenched, burying her nails into the flesh of his back, as he nipped at her sensitive neck and earlobe.

Tara groaned lifting her hips to grind against his as Cullen's hands found her breasts teasing her pert pink nipples into straining peaks. He lowered his head and swirled his tongue down around first one then the other sensitive bud of flesh, relishing in the throaty moan it dragged from Tara's lips. "Maker you are so beautiful," he murmured as he began kissing his way back down her body.

"Cullen, I…oh!"

He pressed her legs apart, staring hungrily down at her wet center. He licked his lips, his gaze rising briefly to connect with her own lust hazed one, before he lowered his face to place a kiss at her core. Fingers threaded through his hair, clutching tightly as he began to worship her most sensitive flesh. He devoured her, loving the soft sounds of pleasure she made, how his every touch elicited small tremors of excitement from the now flushed Inquisitor. It made him even bolder.

His tongue found the sensitive pearl hidden amidst her wet flesh, eliciting a sharp cry from Tara's lips, and spurring him to repeat the motion. As he did, Cullen could feel her being to spasm weakly against his stubbled chin. She gasped sharply, her legs jolting together as if to shut him out. Cullen growled, his hands moving to take hold of her ankles, spreading her wide, his thumbs moving to press against the soft soles of her feet while he redoubled his efforts.

"Cullen! Oh Cullen…please…please…oh I want you…that feels…oh it's so good!"

The big blond grinned as he moved back up to kiss his trembling lover. She clung to him, her mouth insistent, unrelenting. "I want to taste you," she breathed as she bit at his lower lip, and a shock of fresh arousal bolted through him. "I want to have you as you have had me, please?" The handsome blonde lost his ability to speak as he envisioned what his lover was practically begging him to let her do. So he nodded and hooked an arm around Tara, rolling onto his back as he reversed their positions.

The sight of her, straddling him, sunlight pouring down over her from the gaping hole above them, _Maker_ , she looked like an angel. Tara smiled as she lowered herself down to kiss her Commander, then slowly she mirrored his path from earlier. She loved the difference in their bodies, his hard, that of a seasoned warrior, each plane of muscle an enticing ridge in contrast to her own smoother body. She reached the center of his stomach and watched enthralled as he heaved a gasp, his abdomen clenching beneath her lips. She trailed her tongue down first one then the other muscle packed hip bone, before moving to place a series of explorative kisses near the base of his length.

Cullen hissed as the Inquisitor moved to place more feather light kisses up the outside of his positively throbbing member. Groaning loudly as her tongue flicked out to lave about his sensitive head. One small hand moved to grip his base, and then Tara's eyes met his own, sparking with an answering hunger as she tilted forward to take him into her mouth.

He was lost, his hips snapping upwards at the initial feeling of her soft mouth around him. She moaned, the vibrations traveling from her throat and straight into his cock. Cullen's hands rocketed to the sheets beneath him, clenching the fabric until it ripped apart. The sight and sound of what her touch was doing to the Commander easily doubled Tara's excitement. She hollowed her cheeks, rubbing her tongue along his length as she began to bob up and down.

The Commander abruptly sat up, his length sliding from between the Inquisitor's lips with a soft 'pop'. Tara looked up at her lover and was about to ask what was wrong when Cullen's mouth fused against hers once more. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, and again the petite rogue found herself on her back. Those warm calloused wonderful hands of his gripped her hips as the kiss deepened. Then she felt him pressing against her moist entrance. "I'll try to be gentle," Cullen whispered as he slowly began to move inside of her. Tara's breath caught in her throat, her nails dug deeply into the Commander's shoulders as his length stretched her apart until she wondered if she might burst.

"Cullen," she gasped. "You're so big…"

"Oh dear sweet Maker," the big blonde hissed, his face trapped in the crook of one of Tara's shoulders. He wanted to plunge into her tight heat, but he did not want to hurt her. It was an impossible crux between desire and decorum, and at the present moment Cullen honestly did not know which would emerge victorious. Luckily for him, he never had to make that choice.

Tara's ankles suddenly dug into his lower back and pulled him forward until he was seated to the hilt. He choked out a shout, his body trembling, as she arched up against him. "Fuck," Tara breathed, rolling her hips once more loving the electric sensation. Her eyes suddenly flew open, locking with his strained gaze. Her lower lips dragged out from behind her teeth, her hands moving down to grip at his lower back as she said, "Fuck me Cullen."

"I am at _your_ command," he said with a shaky laugh as he began to thrust in and out of her tight heat. She cried out, her eyes closing as she fell into the sensation of their lovemaking. He found his pace, losing himself in Tara's soft gasps and piercing moans, until he felt himself climbing towards completion.

"Cullen I feel…it feels…"

"Yes," the Commander growled, his own orgasm forgotten as he began to feel the first pulsing waves of her own climax. "Yes," he said against lowering his head to fuse his mouth against Tara's. "Just let it happen love," he coaxed never losing his pace. Her back arched, her left hand flew back to tear at the pillow behind her head as a loud scream ripped from her lips. Cullen kissed her as she clenched around him, swallowing her every cry until his own throaty shout sent him flying into the abyss alongside her.

"Dear sweet Maker," Cullen whispered as he returned to himself. Tara's muffled laughter jolted him into action as he realized that he was boneless laying on top of the petite rogue. He struggled to lift himself up and roll off to the side of his captivating lover, only to haul her up against his chest once he was no longer crushing her. "That was amazing…You, are amazing," he said pressing a series of fresh little kisses all over Tara sweat dampened face.

She giggled and half-heartedly tried to struggle against the onslaught for a minute before languidly sprawling on top of the Commander's taunt chest. She snuggled her face against the damp hair on his chest, inhaling the musky scent of his sweat and sighed contentedly. "You are incredible Cullen. I love you."

"I love you too Tara," the handsome blonde murmured as he wrapped his long arms around her. A few minutes later the two fell asleep. Both content, both unabashedly sated.


	27. Chapter 27: You Are What You Love

**Author's Note: I don't want to be _that_ person but I'm having a really hard time right now my dear readers. Such is life, but I wanted to explain that I haven't forgotten you or this story, I just haven't been able to write, and even as I post this chapter I know I am not writing very well. Will probably revisit and rewrite at some point. Please enjoy. Good vibes, good vibes. I love you.**

* * *

"After our nap he took me to a lake and gave me this," Tara said giddily as she lifted Cullen's lucky coin, now attached to a chain around her neck, to show Dorian. The tanned mage grinned from ear to ear and slapped his hands together.

"And you wondered if he'd ever get serious! I told you my dear!"

"Yes you did," the Inquisitor relented with an answering laugh. She sighed then, moving her face forward to rest between her hands as she stared dreamily at a spot on the wall far beyond the man seated before her.

"So, shall we start picking out your wedding dress, or should we give the Commander time to fumble around and ask me to assist him in selecting a ring first?" That comment made Tara blush a fine shade of pink. She began sputtering about how such thoughts were moving too fast then realized her friend was merely teasing.

"You are far too cheeky for you own good you scoundrel! And I could say the same about you, you know. You haven't left Garrett's rooms since the second night you spent there."

"I really haven't have I," Dorian repeated as his mind moved off to his own relationship. A large familiar hand settled upon the Tevinter man's shoulder and instantly the tanned mage turned his gaze upwards, already smiling as he found Garrett standing behind him.

"No, he hasn't, and if I have my way he won't be leaving any time soon either," the big Ferelden said as he casually sank into the chair beside his lover. Without hesitation the blue eyed mage leaned over to place a kiss behind Dorian's left ear. The Tevinter man blushed slightly, but where he had once shied away from such public displays of affection he now turned to press a quick kiss against Garrett's lips in response.

"You two are just so cute together," Tara suddenly gushed as a positively brilliant smile pulled up her lips. "I love it!"

"So do I," at the sound of Marian Hawke's voice the petite rogue whirled around in her chair her emerald eyes sparking as she took in the radiant recovered woman.

"Marian, it is so good to see you up and about! Dorian has told me that you are back at the sword as well!" The auburn haired woman nodded, sending her brother's lover a grateful look as she took a seat beside the Inquisitor.

"I am at least a little bit, doctor's orders and what not," the warrior woman said as she stuck her tongue out at the chuckling mage. "While you were away Dorian saw to it that I was no longer allowed to wallow in my misery. Thanks to him I have more than just my arm back. I couldn't have asked for a better suitor for my little brother."

"My dear ladies please, all of this praise is going to go to my head," Dorian laughed as he reached out to pat Marian's hand as it lay on the table before him. The warrior woman quickly flipped her hand over to clasp it around the Tevinter mage's, giving it a firm squeeze.

"Our praise is _not_ undeserving," the auburn haired woman said before she released Dorian's hand and leaned back in her chair. For a few minutes the group sat in a comfortable silence. Marian's eyes moving to one of the many stained glass windows, eyeing the brilliant shards of sunlight trickling down into the main hall. "I believe today is the perfect day for a jaunt into the forest," the warrior suddenly said as she found her feet. "I am going for a ride."

"Would you like some company," Tara asked.

"Certainly Inquisitor, it has been some time since we shared one another's company."

The two women made their way down to the stables, collected their mounts, strapped their weapons to their backs as an added measure, and rode off into the surrounding woods. Wordlessly the raced away from the beaten road and instead urged their horses onto a more narrow game trail. They rode in the direction of the Storm Coast until they reached a particularly scenic ridge. There they halted, each lost in their own thoughts as they stared out at the beautiful land below them.

"When will the Chargers be coming back?" Marian's question was only a whisper, but it shot like an arrow through Tara's heart.

"Soon hopefully…" the Inquisitor said as she moved to chew at her lower lip. "They really should have been back by now, but I suppose if the Dreadnought ran into a storm or Bull is lingering in the company of his people…" Tara fell silent, her gaze moving to watch Marian's obviously troubled face. The petite rogue licked her lips, "I know you haven't said anything but I can _see_ , and I am also worried. I shall mount a patrol and we shall go to make certain the negotiations are going well."

"May I please go with you? I need…" Marian cut off abruptly, turning to look elsewhere in the woods beyond where they were resting.

"You need to know that Krem is alright, it's okay to say Marian…Marian? Hawke?"

"Sh," the warrior hissed, moving her left hand to slice at the air. "I know that voice," she said as she abruptly kicked her horse into a full gallop.

"Marian wait!"

* * *

The world lurched wildly beneath him, darkness encroaching upon the fringes of his vision. The taste of iron growing stronger in his mouth as blood seeped up between his lips, causing him to cough as he staggered to lean against a tree. Iron Bull knew he wasn't going to make it. His wounds were catching up to him…but he couldn't stop yet. He needed to reach Skyhold, he needed to get help. His boys were counting on him! "Help me," the Qunari finally shouted, his desperation peaking. "Help!"

He slid to his knees on the hard ground, pitching over to cough up mouthfuls of blood as he listened to the silence of the forest answer his pleas. Then suddenly a muffled rumble entered the Ben-Hassrath's ears. Hoof beats?

"Bull," a familiar voice called out in the distance and the hulking warrior shoved himself back up onto his feet. He jolted a few steps forward, calling back, hoping that Marian would hear him, his heart lodging into his throat. A few moments later, the proud eldest Hawke crashed through the brush not far from where Iron Bull stood panting. A second later, as the auburn haired beauty leapt to the ground and dashed to his side, Tara also appeared.

"By the Void, Iron Bull," the Inquisitor shouted as she too slipped to the ground and raced to his side. "What happened?"

"The others, where are your men," Marian asked simultaneously.

"Vints…lots of them. Got the drop on us on the Coast and…the Dreadnought didn't make it…lost a few new boys…the others were still alive when I managed to escape."

"Krem," Marian breathed, and Iron Bull lifted his eye to meet the other warrior's darkened gaze.

"Alive, but he took a lot of damage trying to hold off those Vints…and I don't know how long those bastards plan on keeping my boys alive."

"Inquisitor, take Bull and head back to Skyhold, mount a rescue party and send them with my brother and Dorian to the Coast as fast as you can."

"Woah wait, what are you going to do," Tara demanded chasing after the other woman as Marian remounted her horse. "You should wait for…"

"I am _not_ waiting. Tell my brother to ride fast." With that stated Marian kicked her steed into a full gallop and headed down towards the main road leading to the Storm Coast.

 _Hold on Krem, I'm coming._

* * *

It had been four days since Bull had gotten free and as the sun set once more, from his place face down in the gritty sand of the beach, Krem quietly cursed. Salvation had not come. He had seen the wounds on his friend's body, and briefly wondered if the Qunair had not perished on his way back to the Inquisition stronghold.

No, he could not afford to think like that.

Iron Bull _was_ alive, he was _going_ to get help, and they were _going_ to get through this. His ears perk up as he hears the Vints, circled around a not too distant fire, begin talking.

"That damn ox got loose, probably dead in the woods somewhere and no word from the Inquisition in almost a month? I doubt they care one wit if these hired swords are alive, and we're just sitting here freezing our arses off. It's time to be done here. If we can't get the Inquisition to barter, then it looks like we'll have to make due with sending a message, even if it's just to the next local who stumbles across their corpses."

A ripple of fear courses down Krem's spine. He lifts his head, his eyes find Dalish's. She's bound to a post a few feet away shivering a little, her eyes wide like those of a hunted animal, but with a sort of desperate longing buried in those depths. He knows she doesn't _want_ to die, but even more, she can't live another minute as the plaything of these monsters. The others all seem to wake up a bit at the Vint's words as well. Krem's gaze moves over his remaining comrades' faces. Each one a similar shade of stoic resolution, Rocky's has a bit more anger to it, Skinner's is mostly relieved.

They turn towards him, their leader now that Bull is gone.

Briefly he wonders what he looks like to them. He hopes his own face, as sand and bruise ridden as it is, is still a viable mask of cool certainty. He hears the Vints by the fire rising to their feet, and instantly his gaze snaps to them. They move towards the restrained mercenaries with a calm sense of duty, not unlike how Skinner and the Throat-cutters would haunt a battlefield after the fighting was done. Perhaps it would be quick.

"I want to make sure our message is _clear,_ " the leader of the group said as he paused a few steps away from his captives. "Strip them down, then we'll see what Inquisition sell-swords are really made of."

* * *

Marian watched, coiled like a snake behind the sea foam dampened rocks cresting just twenty feet from where the Chargers currently sat bound. Her fingers were going to go numb from gripping the hilt of her sword hard enough that her knuckles were bone white. She listened as the Venatori discussed killing their captives, grit her teeth as they boasted about making their _message clear_.

She was alone, her arm was just barely considered to be fully functioning, no help was in sight, and the damned Venatori were currently forcing the Chargers to undress before they began the process of killing them. If Marian had been a blood mage she'd have slit her wrists right then and rained demons down on that beach until nothing but ash was left of those who dared to attack her friends.

But she wasn't a blood mage, or even a mage for that matter. She was one woman with a sword, and there were fifteen Venatori on that beach. If she engaged it would be suicide, another corpse for the agents to arrange into their gory message. What could she do…what could she do?

One of the Tevinter men moved to stand before Krem, cutting him free of his bonds then ordering him to strip as he held his blade in the warrior's face. The brunette snarled up, and spat at the man's feet before sneering, "Make me." A booted foot lands in his face, even with the distance, Marian can hear the crunch of the contact. Her grip tightens until she feels her skin scream in protest. _'Don't goad them,'_ she yells silently. _'Don't be brave, don't be stupid…just hang on until I figure this out'._

Another Venatori agent moves to hold Krem still, his nose dripping blood, his eyes momentarily unfocused as he recovers from the kick. The man before him uses his sword to slice open the warrior's thin shirt. Stillness settles over the beach, or maybe it is just Marian's imagination. There is a leather harness of sorts strapped around Krem's chest…she had never noticed it before, a hidden piece of armor? The Venatori look just as confused, the main warrior moving to kneel before a now deadly still Cremisius. The tip of the blade slid beneath the leather, and then lurched upwards, carving the thick casing apart.

"By the fucking Black Divine, _it's_ a woman!"

Marian couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. Her eyes were absolutely fixated on Krem's chest, and the nearly exposed orbs of flesh contained there just behind his harness. The man she had come to save, the man she had been falling for…wasn't really a man? A harsh laugh snapped the auburn haired Hawke from her daze as one of the Venatori ripped the remains of the Tevinter warrior's shirt and harness free. "Seems _it_ forgot what _it_ is…let's help _it_ remember."

As the men moved around the pinned warrior their intentions became crystal clear. They were going to rape Krem. Fear and disgust folded deep within Marian's stomach. If she didn't do _something_ those bastards were going to hurt Cremisius, someone who had come for her when she was far beyond gone. Someone who had shown her a kind of softness that Marian had forgotten existed.

The eldest Hawke carefully rolled her stiff joints as she moved her sword into a better position, reveling in the way her adrenaline now flooded through her body in a familiar song. She allowed her white hot rage to take hold in her mind until she entered a state she hadn't slipped into in a long while.

Fleeing the Darkspawn horde of the fifth Blight, Marian had cleaved through everything that had stood between her family and safety.

In Kirkwall she had sold her sword and talent for bloodshed, for a chance at a better life.

After Anders, she had painted the Kirkwall courtyard crimson in the wake of her grief and furry.

What she had done to those that had dared to attack Dorian was justice.

What happened on the Storm Coast, was a massacre.


	28. Chapter 28: Not Who Loves You

**Author's Note: My dear readers, I love you, and hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The scattered tinder of the fire continued to softly pop and crackle but it was a mere whisper in the growing darkness. After the screaming died away, even the sea seemed oddly quiet. From his stunned place on the ground Krem could only stare up at the force that was Marian Hawke.

She stood in the midst of the decimated bodies of the Venatori agents, blood dripping from her hair as if she had just bathed in the crimson liquid. The warrior said nothing as she receded from the depths of her berserker rage. He had not known that she knew the ancient Dwarven technique. He had not known that she possessed Templar abilities either. The shock of seeing her rip a lyrium potion free of one of the mage's belts and down it as if it were a shot of whiskey, the light that had shone from her as she cast a powerful smite, the wings…by the Void, he had never seen anything like it before, a demon in the guise of a vengeful angel.

Marian took another deep breath then slowly turned to face the Chargers as she placed her blade back into its sheath at her back. Blood sloshed in the bottoms of her greaves as she crossed the sand towards Krem. Absentmindedly she bent to retrieve a cloak from the ground and wrapped it around his shoulders as she knelt in front of the wide eyed brunette. Their eyes met, something unspoken passing between them, then the warrior woman moved away to free the others.

By the time she had assisted Dalish to her feet, Marian was feeling the effects of using both of her suppressed abilities simultaneously after so long. She needed to tell Krem…she needed him to know…the tall warrior turned to look back at the now upright Lieutenant. Her face was spattered red, but she seemed to not even notice, her eyes sparking slightly as she opened her mouth as if to say something. The sound of hoof beats suddenly could be heard approaching, with all the vigor that only a Tara Trevelyan led rescue party could.

The Inquisitor, Garrett, Dorian, Casandra, a bandage ridden Iron Bull, and Varric all burst onto the scene with a collection of firesome war cries, that almost instantly died on their lips as they took in the sight of the blood soaked beach. "Andraste's frilly white nickers," the storyteller gasped as Bull clamored to the ground. He rushed forward, staggering a bit, until he could get a good look at his remaining men. "They're alright Bull," Marian said quietly as she cast the rescue party a grin. "We're all okay."

"Nug-shit-soaked-hell dear girl," Dorian hissed through grit teeth as he and Marian's brother moved to her side, their collective magic seeking out any wounds on her body. "Is…is _any_ of that blood yours?"

"I don't think so but…Dorian?"

"Yes dear?"

"I'm sorry about the blood." Almost instantly Marian's eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out, her limp body wetly slapping against the Tevinter man's chest as he caught her. He shifted her up into his arms and cast his lover a look before moving back to his mount to get the unconscious warrior settled in for the journey home. Garrett moved off to where the others stood speaking in low tones to the Chargers. The big mage stepped up to Bull's side as the Qunari spoke to his Lieutenant, a harsh pained looked covering the one eyed warrior's face as he did so.

"You okay Cremisius," the raven haired mage asked, worried by the look Iron Bull was giving the young brunette. Krem nodded, licking at his cracked lips as he pulled the cloak at his shoulders more tightly around himself.

"Yes…thanks to your sister…I…I had no idea that she…she knows how to enter a Berserker rage _and_ Templar abilities?"

"She does," Garrett said carefully his mind beginning to whirl at this new information, "however she hasn't used either of those abilities since, well to be frank, since we faced down Meredith in Kirkwall." Something shifted in Krem's gaze as he nodded then cast his eyes elsewhere. "We should get your men up on the horses and start back to Skyhold," Garrett said then. "I can heal most of their wounds as we go."

* * *

"She knows now…" Iron Bull's eye moved to Krem's face as he pushed a tankard in front of his Lieutenant. The other Chargers were busy arguing about something regarding the effectiveness of curved blades vs straight ones.

They had been back in Skyhold for a few days, all of his boys were alright, and for his part, The Iron Bull couldn't have been more content. But Krem…he had been a different matter. Ever since returning to the Inquisition stronghold he had been distant and reclusive. He avoided the training yard like the plague, and Bull didn't think a siren could convince him to go near the Keep. He had known that it had something to do with Marian Hawke, but until now, he hadn't known the specifics.

"So," the Qunari rumbled before taking a drink from his own mug.

"Those Venatori…they were going to… _they_ cut open my shirt an' they figured it out…" A deadly silence hung between the two friends as Iron Bull's mind bit down hard upon his own memories of what had happened when they had first met. "An' Marian was watchin'. She was hiding behind some rocks, I don't know how long she'd been there but she came flying out after they pinned me…so now she knows, and I didn't even get the _chance_ to tell her myself! I've wanted to, but then…I didn't really know what _we_ were, things have been so difficult, and she was dead, but then she wasn', but then she was broken, and now…" The Lieutenant sank forward to clutch his head in his hands, fingers digging back into his hair.

"Now you are _safe_ Krem…she didn't even wait for reinforcements before she took off you know. She asked me if you were alive and when I said you were the last I had seen you, she jumped on her horse and took off."

"She's a _Hawke_ , they are a heroic people," the brunette said, though there was a glimmer of excitement in his tone.

"Whatever you say Krem-puff," Bull retorted with a loud huff. "But you'll never really know if you keep hiding out in here…which I mean really isn't much of a hiding place. She's going to show up here eventually. But I suppose that's why you insist on sitting on _that_ side of me, so it hides you from the door. You're thinking that if she walks in with the intent of finding you you'll be able to literally _run_ away."

"For all I know she'll want to kick my ass Bull!"

Just then the door to the Herald's Rest opened and in strode none other than Marian Hawke. She was a beautiful ifs slightly terrifying sight. Her hair was loosely braided and hung down over one shoulder. She was devoid of her armor this evening. Instead a fitted cream tunic and warm brown leggings shielded her form, leading down into a worn looking set of black boots. She smiled warmly at Bull then suddenly the Qunari leaned back, exposing Krem to her view, as he looped an arm around his friend's shoulders anchoring him in place.

"Hawke! I haven't had the chance to buy you a drink as thanks for saving my boys just yet, come have a seat with us! I need a mug of your finest whiskey over here," he added calling out to the grinning barkeep. Marian's smile remained in her face as she walked over to the table, her gaze falling to Krem's face.

He could feel his heart in his throat, his lungs collapsing beneath those brilliant blue orbs. Bull abruptly stood, one hand remaining on his lieutenant's shoulder as he offered the auburn haired warrior his vacated seat. She sank into the chair easily, seemingly unaffected by her proximity to him. He didn't know how to take her casual effortlessness. Was this her version of ignoring him? Or was this the calm before the storm? Or worse, was she merely _pretending_ to feel so natural, and hiding disgust behind that smile of hers?

So went Krem's personal hell for the next hour. He kept his head down, his eyes on his ale, and did not dare to speak a word.

Suddenly a hand pressed down on his left thigh, sending a fiery jolt through his body. He stared down at that hand for a long moment as everything else faded to muffled background noise, then his gaze carved a path up to a strong wrist, then progressed further up a long lithely muscled arm until his eyes met Marian's. She grinned at him, her lips soft, pulling up at the corners and setting a spark loose in the depths of her eyes. "Could we talk?"

She wanted to talk…never a good sign, even if delivered with such a disarming grin. The brunette licked his lips but only managed a small nod in response. Then that hand moved to clasp his and Krem found himself being tugged out into the night. He followed numbly, panic shimmering just beneath the surface of his skin. The tall warrior led him back into a secluded corner behind the tavern and abruptly pushed him against a wall. _This is it,_ he though as he swallowed hard. She was going to give it to him, he just knew it. Screamed questions of betrayal…perhaps he could survive that, she had at least been generous enough to not unleash upon him in front of the other patrons of the Herald's Rest.

"Krem…I'm sorry for how I was acting before you and the Chargers left. I know I was being pitiful, and you were right to be upset with me."

"I…what?"

"You were right…did I screw things up between us so badly that now you don't even want to _look_ at me? Or…was it…was it what happened on the Coast?" The beautiful warrior backed off a few steps nervously biting her lower lip, "I know that my berserker state is…not a very _welcoming_ sight, and my Templar abilities make me look a bit odd as well…"

"Woah woah, wait," Krem cut in looking stunned. "You're…you're not…Marian I _know_ you saw what happened when my shirt was cut away!"

"Yes."

"And," the brunette was having a very hard time, watching as the warrior's face moved into a look of slightly bemused confusion. "And that…?"

"Do you like me Krem?" That question caught him off guard, but it was something he instantly knew how to verbally respond to at least.

"Yes," he said softly but firmly. "And I know that you know that…I also know that you didn' know about…I should have told you about _me_."

"Cremisius," Marian's tone was gentle as her hand lifted to cup one side of his face. "It was a bit of a shock when I first realized…but come on. I was in love with a man who had a _spirit of Justice_ living inside of him. A set of nice tits are _not_ going to deter me."

"But you like _men_ , and while _I am_ a man, I'm still not a man in a _physical_ sense."

"I like _you_ Krem! Maker's balls! You could wear dresses, call your-self a man, _and_ come fully equipped with _both_ sets of bits for all I care! As long as _you_ are _you_ , that's what matters the most to me. I haven't been attracted to _anyone_ since Anders, physically or otherwise, and yet here you are. Slipping around my carefully constructed defenses so expertly that I didn't even know it was happening until it was too late! I…I don't know if what has been growing between us is love, but I know I feel _something_ for you, and whatever it is I want _more_."

Krem stared, certain that his mouth must have been hanging open a bit. She wanted _more_. She wasn't yelling…she wasn't running…she wanted more! Elation swelled through the Tevinter man's chest, bubbling up inside him until he felt as if he could fly. She wanted _him_! His gaze roamed her face, her beautiful, currently questioning, face as silence stretched between them. He didn't know what to say in response to her confession, so he said nothing. He simply reached out, wrapped an arm around the startled warrior's waist, twirled her back so that she was pressed against the wall, and kissed her.

She let out a small shocked sound and for a split second Krem wondered if he had picked the wrong course of action. Then her arms slinked around his neck, anchoring him against her as she pressed her lips more firmly against his. His hands clutched at her back, resting comfortably in the small curve there as he deepened the interlude. For a moment he abandoned her mouth and pressed a nibbling kiss against the side of Marian's long neck just beneath her ear. She shivered in response and let out an utterly feminine noise that made Krem's stomach fill with heat.

"Bloody hell Marian, you can't make sounds like _that_ an' expect me to be all gentlemanly," the brunette quipped with a smile as he gave her a quick peck before pulling away.

"My ex blew up a Chantry and started a war across Thedas…maybe I have a thing for bad boys with no concept of restraint," the auburn haired beauty said with a laugh. In response Cremisius rolled his eyes as he shook his head.

"By the Void woman you are trouble if I ever saw it!"

"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet Cremisius Aclassi."


	29. Chapter 29: Aggregio Pavali

Corypheus and Calpernia were still out there somewhere, rifts still dotted the land, but despite all of that the Inquisition and its members had fallen into a certain semblance of regularity. Even after a series of disturbing facts had been uncovered regarding the Seekers of Truth and the possibility of reversing Tranquility, things had not fallen apart. Despite it being revealed that Blackwall, a member of the Inquisitor's Inner Circle, was not who he had claimed to be, they had rallied together rather than turned against one another in a storm of suspicion.

Aiden, Serena, and Alistair worked tirelessly to restore the Grey Wardens to their former glory. The Queen and Zevran had taken it upon themselves to personally train Tara in the art of dagger wielding to masterful effect. Marian, Krem, and Iron Bull had been placed in charge of assisting Cullen in training the recruits who seemed to come to Skyhold in droves by the day now. Meanwhile Dorian and Garrett lent their skills to training their fellow mages. Tara watched over them all, leading with a fair and just hand that never wavered.

Somehow in the midst of all of the chaos, they had found happiness.

Garrett could not recall having felt so utterly content since before the Fifth Blight had reached Lothering and torn his world and family apart. Every sunrise he thanked the Maker for his life, his family, and for Dorian. The Tevinter mage was beyond his wildest dreams constantly doting on the Ferelden. When it was the mustached mage who was called away to assist the Inquisitor on some mission he wrote the most heartfelt letters, and frequently brought back trinkets to bestow on his constantly surprised lover. And when their positions were reversed, Dorian always had a steaming bath and a feast waiting for Garrett when he returned from his own travels. Together or apart, they were always seemingly connected.

It was a sentiment that Tara was beginning to understand completely herself. Cullen was a wonder, and even when their respective duties kept them apart for long stretches of time, the petite rogue would simply finger the coin around her neck and smile, her heart full to bursting with the love she knew was between them. And regardless of their schedules, if they were both in Skyhold they always slept together. Even the dark cold nights after she had just returned from a mission, falling beneath her covers bone weary and bleak, Tara could always count on the Commander's strong arm to wrap about her waist and pull her into a warm embrace at some point.

As for the eldest Hawke sibling, Garrett was all too pleased to note that Marian was reclaiming a bit of softness, a portion of her that he thought had been buried and forgotten after Kirkwall. When she wasn't assisting in teaching recruits how to properly mangle and obliterate enemies on the battlefield, she was dressing in plainclothes and going on cozy little dates with the Charger's Lieutenant. For his part Krem was the perfect gentleman. He contentedly stood guard whenever Marian wished to use the underground spring to bathe, massaged her injured arm whenever it was bothering her, and had even brought the wild auburn haired woman flowers he had picked after slaughtering a group of bandits near Redcliff. His attempts at romance were awkward, but they were precisely what the warrior woman needed, and adored.

Not that Krem had really accepted that fact, as was evident by his somewhat melancholy tone as he spoke with his friend The Iron Bull one night in the Herald's Rest.

"I just don' know what to do Bull," the brunette lamented quietly as his fellows roared with merriment in the back ground while they played cards at their usual table. The two leaders of the Chargers were seated at the bar enjoying a set of strong drinks to ease the passing of Krem's uncertainty.

"What do you mean Krempuff? I thought that things were going well for you and the Iron Maiden?"

"I mess everything up," the Lieutenant cried into his cup before taking another long drink. "I'm tryin' Bull really I am! But, I spill things, an' trip up all my words…I…I want to do something _special_ for her, but I don't know what to _do_!"

"I thought you were taking it slow? You know, letting Marian lead the pace?"

"I am, and we are! It's just…I still want her to know that I am serious abou' her!"

"You took her flowers…"

"They 'ad blood on 'em!"

"Okay," Bull drawled slowly, fighting to keep his grin at a minimum. "Listen...I don't know a lot about wooing amongst humans. In the Qun, if you truly care about someone you find a dragon and you get one of its teeth. Once you do that, you split the tooth in half and keep one half for yourself and give the other half to the person of your affections…it means that you are always together, no matter how far apart you might be." For a long moment Cremisius was silent then he turned his gaze up at his friend, a positively brilliant sparkle in his eyes.

"Bull...how the FUCK am I supposed to the get the bloody tooth of a blighted dragon!"

"Before you start screaming at me, you should remember just who it is you are talking to. I happen to be not only the leader of the greatest band of mercenaries to ever set foot on Ferelden soil, but I also happen to be a part of the Inquisitor's inner circle. That means I am privy to information that others are not...such as the location of a dragon. Boss says we need to get rid of the thing, I guess it's been snacking on some of Harding's scouts. I could put in a word and get you on the extermination team?"

"You're the bloody best Bull."

"I know Krem-puff, I know."

* * *

"I've been thinking about this for a while now and..." Varric's eyes widened as they followed the progress of the small royal blue velvet box. With a soft snap it opened to reveal a handsome band made of dark metal, inlayed with red-oak and a smaller band of blue stone the same color as Garrett's eyes. The Storyteller's smile was as bright as the sun.

"Sparkler," he managed to say softly, "that is a right gorgeous piece of jewelry you have there." The grey eyed mage smiled down at the ring before carefully placing it back in his pocket.

"Do you think he will like it?"

"I am certain that he will _love_ it! When are you going to ask him?" The Tevinter mage shrugged.

"I am not sure just yet, perhaps just after we get back from slaying this abominable dragon with our lovely Inquisitor? I could take him somewhere special then, maybe during dinner, or after a nice quiet day sightseeing..."

"I know that whenever and wherever you decide to ask him, it _will_ be perfect Dorian," the Dwarf said encouragingly as he patted his friend's hand. "Don't overly worry about it."

"He deserves for it to be absolutely the _right_ moment!"

"And I am telling you that it will be no matter what. Trust me, if there's one thing I know it's a Hawke, and the one you have your eye on...Dorian look, I hate to spoil the ending of _this_ romance for you, but he is going to say yes."

"You really think so? I just want to make certain that this is the right time for this, for both of us. Not that any amount of worrying on my part is going to dissuade me mind you. I _am_ going to ask Garrett to marry me..."

"You should do it right after you land the killing blow on the dragon," Varric insisted with a smile as he hoped down from his seat. That made the mage chuckle.

"Perhaps I will. I would look rather dashing: kneeling on the beast's nose as its head fell to land just before my wide eyed beau, the ring held out in one steady hand!"

"There see, you'll do just fine! Now we had better get going before the Inquisitor comes searching for us."

"I just hope that the dragon cooperates with this fantastic plan of yours."

* * *

"This is _not_ how I thought this would go!"

The dragon's roar made Marian's teeth rattle within her head. Dear Maker what had they been thinking! The warrior woman raced around the High Dragon's front legs, attempting to land a crippling blow, but to no avail. Her strikes rang through her arms, stinging her hands as she met the resistance that only dragon scales could offer.

They were going to die.

"We need to get out of here," she shouted as she narrowly missed being crushed by a clawed paw.

"Our retreat is blocked," the auburn haired woman heard Tara yell in response. "It seems that it is do or die today!" Marian rolled out from under the beast's stomping feet and glanced briefly to the opening of the pass they had come from. There she saw her companions attempting to carve a path back through a swarm of dragonlings and her heart sank. Krem alone could not make an opening through the wall of wyrms, if only she or Iron Bull could lend their strength...but both warriors were currently busy making sure that the Mother dragon was too distracted to defend her young.

From her vantage point on a high rock the Inquisitor attempted to provide cover to both sets of allies. Her brow was beaded with sweat and her fingers bled, but she never wavered. A fireball exploded against the canyon wall above her, singeing her hair, but still she fought on.

Garrett was positioned between the two fighting groups, lending his healing magic and heroic aura to both sides as well as cover. But as the battle drew on his mana reserves began to waver, and the big mage's own concern intensified.

Suddenly an ear splitting scream rent the air as Marian's sword finally sliced into the tendon of the dragon's right front paw. The warrior's smile of victory quickly vanished as the beast came crashing down right on top of her. "Marian," Krem cried out, hissing a slew of curses as he was unable to disengage from the dragon's spawn to give the warrior woman aide. Her brother however abandoned the others and raced to his sister's prone form as the dragon rolled off of her to bite at Iron Bull.

The big mage was able to determine that his sister still had a pulse, and then the dragon whirled back. With one snap of its tail it sent the Qunari mercenary leader flying and spewed a column of fire down upon the siblings. Garrett threw a shield around his sister and dove out from the midst of the blaze, firing strike after strike of lightning at the dragon to lure it away. Dorian watched as his heart lodged firmly in his throat. He needed to act quickly. A wall of icy spikes shot up out around him, impaling several dragonlings and buying the mustached mage just enough time to send Krem a look before he launched himself across the canyon floor.

He reached the limp woman's side and hefted her up into his arms, his magic seeking out her wounds. "Marian, come now dear girl...come back to us."

Just then Garrett's own pained yelp drew Dorian's gaze, horrified, the Tevinter man watched as his lover skidded across the earth, the dragon having managed to clip the big man with its tail. Unlike his sister however the hulking Ferelden instantly got back onto his feet to face the beast limping towards him. "Brother...?" Marian mumbled against Dorian's shoulder, her eyes flickering open.

"Hawke!" A voice Dorian did not know rang out, and suddenly a figure clad in black could be seen racing towards the big mage. Garrett started and turned towards the man, his eyes widening in clear recognition. "Hawke," the low voiced stranger shouted again as he pulled a greatsword from its place at his back.

What happened next Dorian would never forget.

Without missing a beat Garrett sheathed his staff and bent down towards the sprinting warrior, his hands interlaced before him. The stranger ran right up to Marian's brother, placed a foot in the mage's hands, and a moment later Garrett heaved him into the air. As the warrior flew, the big Ferelden then turned and fired a bolt of lightning at the dragon, drawing the beast's gaze downward. The warrior landed on the creature's head, his sword severing its spinal cord. As the dragon let out a death scream and fell towards the earth, the unknown man leapt free, landing neatly at Garrett's side.

Dorian watched, a silent scream clawing at his throat as he pieced together just who it was standing before his lover. Marian struggled to sit up, taking in her friend's deadpan gaze and casting her own eyes to lock on the all too familiar form of her brother's ex, Fenris. The next instant the auburn haired warrior was on her feet, dragging the Tevinter mage along after her as she began striding towards Garrett.

Krem, Varric, and Tara had managed to dispatch the last of the dragon's spawn and gone to check on Iron Bull. The Dwarf's whispered, "Oh shit," got everyone attention however, and quickly four sets of eyes moved to fall upon the strange elf who stood before Garrett.

"Varric," a somewhat pale Inquisitor asked softly, "is that who I think it might be?"

"Yep...not good, oh and there's Marian! Definitely _not_ good," the Storyteller muttered as he began quickly making his way to try and intercept the livid looking Hawke.

"Are you alright," Fenris asked, but his voice sounded as if it were a thousand miles away in Garrett's ears. "Hawke, did you hit your head? Talk to me."

He certainly felt as if he had taken a hit, several in fact; a few to the head, a few more pointed blows to his heart, and perhaps one more to his head for good measure. Before the big mage could muster a retort however a gauntleted fist belonging to his sister flew past his peripheral vision and landed with astounding accuracy directly in the center of Fenris' throat. The blow knocked the elf back off of his feet, and the warrior woman leapt upon him as she shouted, "You little prick what the fuck are you doing here!"

"Marian no, stop!" The sound of Dorian's voice pulled Garrett from his stupor and an instant before either Varric or the Tevinter mage could move to keep the eldest Hawke from beating her brother's ex into a pulp the hulking Ferelden lurched forwards and easily plucked her off of the white haired warrior. He held his still struggling sister by the back of her collar as she flailed, growling, and still attempting to get at Fenris.

"How dare you come here! What makes you think you have any right! Put me down Garrett!" A now equally furious Fenris jumped back onto his feet snarling at Marian as he cast his startled gaze at the big mage.

"Of course I came! When I returned to Kirkwall after hunting Venatori in the Free Marches I got your letter Garrett, stating that you had gone to Ferelden, so I followed. When I got here…I heard many strange rumors regarding the both of you and this Inquisition…I heard that you were dead Hawke!"

"Yeah well he got better, much better in fact while _you_ weren't around!"

"I am not talking to you Marian," the elf grit out from behind clenched teeth as his gaze briefly darted to the odd dark skinned man hovering just behind the Hawke siblings. He was _staring_ at him in a way that made Fenris' skin prickle.

Had the elf's glare been any more potent Dorian was sure that it would have actually managed to physically wound him. "What are you looking at?" Such a deep voice from such a lithe figure, though large for an elf. Olive skin, sharp intelligent green eyes, astonishingly white hair, and those markings…not tattoos judging by how they glowed, but the design was still quite pleasing. Not to mention skilled with that massive sword. Yes, the mustached mage could see how his lover had been attracted to such a warrior.

"Someone who should have stayed away."

The shock of hearing a voice so menacing come from the normally level headed Garrett Hawke made everyone freeze. The big mage set his sister aside as he took a step towards a now wide eyed Fenris. "What do you mean Hawke," the elf asked quietly.

"I mean that as _noble_ as you coming to what, mourn my corpse, might seem to you, _I_ do not comprehend why you have chosen to come after so long? We haven't seen one another in months…more than half a year! Don't you _get it_ Fenris," Garrett cried his tone shifting into something that was equal parts defeated and exasperated, " _we_ are done!"

Dorian's own heart seized in his chest as he watched a look of utter betrayal cross the elf's carefully guarded eyes. His mouth opened and closed several times, but the stunned warrior seemed incapable of forming a single syllable.

Abruptly Varric inserted himself between the two formidable men, "Hey Hawke, perhaps this isn't really the time or place for this conversation?"

"There is _no_ conversation Varric," Garrett muttered his voice even more tired than it had been before. "We were over the day he left me for the third and final time. Our dragon is slain, we should…"

"We should be heading back to Skyhold," Tara cried as she stepped up to the Dwarf's side, sending everyone around her a brilliant, if a tad bit brittle, smile. "Excellent work, all of you, really! And, Fenris was it? You are of course welcome to accompany us and remain at Skyhold until you are ready to travel again."

"What," the big Hawke practically growled about to protest when a hand wrapped around his wrist startling him. The Ferelden mage's eyes swung back to collide with the serene gaze of Dorian.

"He came all this way for you."

No one even noticed that Krem lingered by the body of the High Dragon.


	30. Chapter 30: Thats When The Fight Started

**Author's Note: Chapter Thirty on the 30th of the 3rd Month! Woot Woot. Changes may be made, but enjoy any way my dear readers! Thank you so much for your love and support!**

* * *

Varric hadn't felt so off balance since the Hawke's had seemingly perished in the Fade. He knew that no one had expected Fenris to show up. He also knew that Dorian, as calm as he appeared on the outside, was probably screaming on the inside; his plans to propose to Garrett momentarily placed far on a back shelf. He also knew that for all of his flaws, the former lover of one Champion of Kirkwall was undoubtedly hurting. So after a week of blatant awkward tension looming over the entire hold, and against the Storyteller's better judgement, he had sought the warrior out, and found him deep in his cups at the Herald's Rest.

After entering the tavern Varric sided up to the bar and gingerly took the stool next to the white haired elf. After ordering himself a glass of whiskey he cast Fenris a sidelong glance. "So, Broody…what've you been up to?"

It was a hard thing but Fenris managed to not bite out his response to Varric's question. Since coming to Skyhold, the elf had been mostly left to his own devices. Every now and then Marian would spot him in a rare moment outside of the tavern and glower in his general direction, but aside from that it had mostly been strangers who had even attempted to talk to him. Not that he was surprised. He knew that his appearance made most people give him a wide birth as it was, now staying holed up in the Keep's lone watering hole all night and day, drinking himself a deeper and deeper frown…he didn't blame anyone for keeping clear. Besides there was really only one person whom he _wanted_ to see, and that was not happening. Then there was Varric, always Varric…

"The usual," the elf muttered with a shrug, "killing things, having a drink."

"It's good to see that with all of the shit going on in the world that at least _some_ things don't change," the Dwarf said as he reached up to pat the elf's shoulder. "In all seriousness though, how are you holding up here? I don't think I've seen you anywhere other than watching the training ring from just outside here, and having a drink in here."

"I haven't really known what else _to_ do to be honest…when did…tell me about how Hawke came to be here? And when did…" the elf's words died in a pained huff of breath.

"As is the custom of the Hawkes, "Varric began in a light tone, "they showed up here right when everything was going to shit. We were being attacked in the dead of night by an army of corrupted mages led by Corypheus. Go figure!"

Fenris let out a snort that could have been a laugh, if it hadn't had so much disgust built up behind it. "I had heard that name on too many lips for it to not be true…though I really did hope it was."

"Yeah, Garrett and Marian were both pretty miffed when they found out too. All that work: getting that damn key, the traps, Anders going crazy…for nothing. Oh well, if at first you don't succeed try throwing your lot in with a woman whose glowing hand can swallow demons they always say."

"I see…and that _Magister_?" At that Varric heaved a heavy sigh.

"Broody I don't know what to tell you about _that_. It's something I'm afraid you're going to half to talk to Hawke about. I just watched what happened, I don't actually know the details of it all anyway. I just know that Garrett, well, he seems genuinely _happy_ with Sparkler, who by the way really _isn't_ a Magister."

"Mages from _Tevinter_ are _all_ the same. Why Hawke of all people would fall prey to one's charms is beyond my understanding."

"Well…to be fair you don't actually know Sparkler at all…"

"His nickname does him no favors," Fenris jeered with a toothy predatory smirk before taking a long drink from his cup.

"Yeah but he sure knows how to bring a _sparkle_ to the _big_ Hawke's eye." Varric flinched as Iron Bull hefted his weight down onto the empty stool on the other side of Fenris. The Qunari beamed down at the two companions, nudging the prickly elf as he asked, "What are you drinking Dragon Slayer?" At first the white haired elf had been ready to threaten bodily harm upon the intruder, but now he found that he was unexpectedly fighting a grin, the corners of his mouth twitching helplessly with the effort.

"Scotch on the rocks," Fenris eventually stated without inflection, his eyes never moving from Varric. "I prefer his nicknames by the way," he added nodding his head back to where the deeper voice had come from.

"I have a few good ones," Bull laughed as a massive mug was placed before him. "And my boys and I have a few good stories too, if you're interested, you can sit with us while you drown your affections. We're a rowdy bunch of highly trained mercenaries, but I have a feeling that you'd fit in alright. Varric does any way."

"Thanks Tiny and he's not joking, the Chargers are always a good time…besides you could do with some company Broody." Fenris fingered his cup, his eyes watching the swirling amber liquid. "You know," Varric continued to prod, " _friends_? Like back in Kirkwall, but the drinks are better and there are more people to beat at Diamondback."

"Fine," the white haired elf finally said turning his green eyes up to unflinchingly meet Iron Bull's own gaze. "Let me meet these mercenaries of yours then."

* * *

Dorian had attempted to be patient, to remain silent on any matter regarding the reappearance of Garrett's ex. It was _not_ his place to decide what would happen, how things between the two would resolve, or if things would even have a resolution. After all if the big mage did decided to try and work things out with the white haired warrior Dorian _had_ been through worse. A broken heart was nothing like from having your own father attempt to change your very being with blood magic. But it was rather unsettling to find himself lying awake at night, contemplating the ring he had only just purchased for his lover, and hearing the big man whisper _another's_ name in his sleep.

A singular instance he could have brushed off easily, or so he liked to think, but this was not the case. Garrett had murmured the elf's name upon several occasions, and a few times Dorian had even caught the big mage looking out into the courtyard, his gaze hovering on a very distinct figure lurking the shadows just beyond the Herald's Rest.

Jealousy burned within the mustached man's heart no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He had hoped that Garrett would go talk to his ex after a few days back at the Keep. That he would make his stance firmly known, whatever that stance might have been. And at first Dorian had always _known_ where he believed that stance would be. Now, he found himself plagued by uncertainty, the ring he had purchased weighing like a corpse in his pocket.

What made everything worse somehow was finding out that Iron Bull and the Chargers had sort of welcomed Fenris into their midst. It was a nice sentiment on the Qunari's part, but it still felt almost like betrayal, or in Marian's case, like flagrant betrayal.

As he paced the empty chambers he shared with Hawke, his fifth glass of wine already half gone, Dorian knew that he needed to do something about the current situation. At the very least he needed to talk to someone. The only person he felt he could talk to was Varric, however, and thus far he had not even been able to bring himself to do that. Voicing his fresh concerns to another he knew would only make them seem more tangible, but it had to be better than allowing his fears to run amok freely within the confines of his own head.

He set his glass aside and pulled his coat around his shoulders before moving out into the main hall of the keep. There he ran into Josephine, and asked her if she knew where Varric happened to be when he saw that the Dwarf's usual table was devoid of life. "The Herald's Rest, I had heard him make mention of checking in on Cole," she said curtly before moving back about her own business.

The Herald's Rest.

Well if that wasn't just bloody perfect.

As Dorian crossed the open courtyard to the tavern he warred with himself. If Fenris were in there, and odds were that he would be, his presence could be taken as an invitation for trouble that the already spread thin mage did not have the patience to deal with. On the other hand it was a _public_ place, and even if it were not, _he_ was a member of the Herald's Inner Circle and had every right to be there. He had earned his place in Skyhold, regardless of who he was in a relationship with. With that thought bolstering him the grey eyed mage crossed the threshold into the tavern.

Immediately his eyes scanned the room hoping to find Varric, but he must have been upstairs speaking with Cole. The mage's heart sank and briefly he wondered if he shouldn't just go rather than seek out the Dwarf and run the risk of bumping into Fenris.

"Wow," a low voice suddenly rumbled in Dorian's left ear. The mustached mage started as a firm hand gripped his upper right hip, and he whirled his gaze to find himself inches away from a laughing eyed Aiden Amell. "Are you the bride of the Maker, because you are on _fire_!" The mustached mage groaned aloud though he was secretly grateful for his lover's cousin's interference.

"Is there not a certain elf whom such a line would work on," Dorian retorted with a smile.

"Well sure, I mean there is, but he looks much less sullen and in need of a pick-me-up than you," the tall raven haired arcane warrior responded with an answering grin. "Zevran, Alistair, Cullen, and I are having a few rounds tonight. If you haven't found what you're looking for in the doorway here, perhaps you would like to join us for a few drinks? We'd love to have you…I rather Zev and _I_ would love to have you, and the others can just miss out on _all_ of the fun." Dorian found that he was laughing despite his own concerns over running into Garrett's ex.

"I accept your invitation Ser Amell, come, let us join your merry band of brothers."

* * *

He had come seeking solace and he had found it, but not in the deep soul searching conversation he had envisioned. Instead it came in the form of drunken men sharing half-worthy pickup lines and gushing about their singular interests in slurred fashions. There was no need for heart wrenching conversation here, only strong drink and good company. It was just the medicine that Dorian required, or so he thought until he caught Fenris' eye.

The elf was glaring over the rim of his mug amidst the Chargers, or just blatantly staring, it did not matter the Tevinter mage knew when someone had a problem with him. At first he attempted to ignore it, but soon he found that this was no longer something within his capacity. His temper flared just as he reached the bottom of his third glass of, well, whatever swill Zevran and Aiden had been pushing in front of him all night.

It was time to take his leave.

"I should be going," he said abruptly gaining his feet, all thoughts of Varric, the ring, everything other than returning to Garrett's chambers, fleeing his alcohol addled mind. No one attempted to stop him, and for this Dorian was grateful. He flung a few careless coins onto the table top to settle his tab and moved towards the door.

Simultaneously the white haired elf also got to his feet and stepped into the Tevinter mage's path.

The world stood still.

He would not take the bait, no matter what. He was an Altus, a son of the house of Pavus, a mage beyond comparable talent…

Fenris' hand gripped the side of his coat, just outside of the pocket where Garrett's ring lay dormant.

" _Magister_." The word was sneered as if it were the vilest of curses. Dorian did not grant it a verbal retort, instead choosing to merely raise an eyebrow in response. "I do not know what it is that you have done to capture Hawke so completely, but _I_ shall not stand for it."

"I have nothing to say to you." The words were true enough, their delivery simple and without emotion. Then the elf's hand tore away, and with it the lining of the mage's pocket. With a deafening plunk, the royal blue velvet box clattered to the floor between them, and before Dorian could move Fenris bent to retrieve it.

Almost as if in a trance the white haired warrior picked the box up and flicked it open with a set of gauntleted fingers. Those same long strong digits plucked the carefully crafted ring from its seat, holding it up to the light of tavern, examining it with a keen eye.

Moss met stone as Fenris' gaze moved to pierce the immobile mage's, "You shall _never_ have him as _I_ did," the elf snarled an instant before he crushed the simple circle to dust between his fingers.

Dorian felt as if he were caught in suspension.

The world grinding to a halt as he watched the fragments of his carefully crafted ring fall to the alcohol stained floor, Fenris' words ringing in his ears.


	31. Chapter 31: Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Dorian's hands clenched as he stared at the elf before him.

' _You are not some common man who settles his disputes with petty violence.'_ Somewhere in the back of his mind the better part of him urged the mage to be the bigger man and simply walk away. It was drowned out by the sound of crunching bone as his fist collided with the center of Fenris' face.

The entire tavern exploded into chaos as the warrior and mage launched at one another. Dorian could not recall another moment in his life that he had felt such unbridled fury. It dulled everything else as he went blow for blow against the nimble warrior. He barely felt it when Fenris landed a punishing kick to his ribs, or when the elf's razor edged gauntlets carved along his jaw. All he knew was that he wanted to _hurt_ the other man more than anything else at that moment.

"You really think you can force him to remain at your side," the Tevinter mage heard himself snarl. "You believe that _this_ will change anything between Garret and I?" Fenris responded by heaving another hate filled kick at the grey eyed man's chest. This time Dorian was sent flying backwards into the bar. The wind collapsing from his lungs and leaving him momentarily dazed from the magnitude of the impact.

"You know _nothing_ of him! A passing fascination and a _mistake_ is all that you are," the elf growled as he advanced. "Hawke despises the mages of Tevinter, you and all of your blood magic using abhorrent ways!" Fenris' skin ignited a sharp blue as he charged, one clawed hand reaching for Dorian's heart.

Out of pure instinct, the mustached mage called forth the very magic that the elf had just spewed his disdain towards. He caught the elf's arm in his grasp and felt the foreign power there, frowning despite his minor victory as he locked gazes with Fenris once more. " _This_ is not about Tevinter, magisters, blood magic, or anything else. This is about Garrett. I only want him happy, regardless as to where that leaves _us_ , because _I_ truly love him."

"You only love his power!"

"His power," Dorian cried in stunned disbelief, "are you insane? His power? I don't need his power!"

"A bas saarebas like you always needs more power." The Tevinter mage's eye twitched upon hearing that. He was a learned man, and the foreign insult was not lost on him one bit.

"Talk shit like a Qunari, get _hit_ like a Qunari," Dorian shouted as he surged towards his opponent. He crashed into the elf, then kept going and did not stop until he had plowed them both through the very wall of the tavern.

The mage finally released the warrior sending him bouncing several yards across the moonlit courtyard where he landed in a heap.

As he skidded to a stop himself Dorian hissed in a breath as he felt the familiar sting of broken bones in his left arm. The edge of pain caused his anger to dissipate just enough for a single thought to enter his mind, if they continued to fight like this, one of them was going to wind up dead.

And despite all of his newfound rage towards his lover's ex, he did not truly want the elf dead. Dorian straightened, his body beginning to feel the stinging cuts and bruises dotting his body as his adrenaline faded. "Enough of this," he muttered even as the elf scrambled to regain his feet. "We are _done_ here Fenris."

"We are not done you coward," the warrior bellowed, his body glowing blue once more as he prepared to attack.

"I am," the mage retorted as he turned his back and simply began to walk away. Fenris bolted forward, his feet carrying him like lightning across the earth. His only intent was separating the Tevinter mage's heart from his chest. Dorian heard the elf closing in on him and turned back to face his attacker. For one pulse stopping second grey eyes melded with the hate filled green of the warrior's, and then Garrett was there.

After all hell had broken loose in the tavern Varric had sent Cole to find the only people who could possibly put a stop to the mayhem; the Hawke siblings and Tara Trevelyan. Upon hearing what was transpiring the trio had instantly abandoned their meeting and rushed out into the moonlit courtyard just in time to watch as Dorian had come careening through the wall of the Herald's Rest.

For a moment Garrett had been unable to react. Such a display of violence was something he was used to when it came to Fenris, but it was completely unexpected when it came to the Tevinter Altus. Then he had heard his lover call for a halt to the fighting and he had known, even before hearing the white haired warrior's response, that Fenris was far from finished. The glowing visage of the elf was further proof of what was about to happen.

Fearing the worst Garrett threw himself down the stairway leading to the yard bellow, gaining momentum as he watched Fenris' outstretched hand carve a path towards Dorian's exposed back.

The Ferelden mage hit the elf with enough force that when the warrior's body met the earth the impact created a shallow crater.

And even though Fenris clearly wasn't about to get up, the fury blinded Hawke did not seem to care. The hulking mage pulled back another fist, despite his lover's shout calling for him to stop, and aimed for the warrior's slack face. Before he got the chance to turn the elf's cheekbones into splinters however Iron Bull arrived on the scene.

The Qunari mercenary leader had originally followed the skirmish outside in order to break up Dorian and Fenris, now he very likely spared the elf severe injury by tackling the big Ferelden mage back off of the limp warrior. The two giants wrestled around until they were both standing, the mercenary chief holding his friend in a bear hug in order to keep him from moving back to the unconscious elf.

But Garrett was not about to calm down. The usually docile Ferelden struggled mightily in an attempt to break free of Bull's grasp, determined to enact vengeance upon his former lover for using his lyrium markings on Dorian. "Let me go Bull," the hulking mage growled.

"I can't do that Big Hawke, not until you get your head back on straight."

"My head is on straight, Damnit, he could have _killed_ Dorian," Garrett yelled. A moment later the blue eyed Ferelden rocked his head back and rammed his forehead as hard as he could against the Qunari's. The blow made Bull stagger backwards, hissing an impressive string of curses as he locked his gaze with Garrett's. The mage huffed in his every breath, blood coursing down his face from the cut along his forehead from where his skull had met the unrelenting bone of Bull's horns.

The colossal two-handed warrior had always wondered what it would be like to go toe to toe against Marian's brother, and it seemed that he was about to find out. The air around Garrett crackled as his magic simmered to life beneath his skin. Bull braced, knowing that the ensuing fight would be as brutal as the battle against the Hinterland High Dragon.

The hulking mage took a few steps towards his quarry then abruptly pitched forward, collapsing in an unconscious heap.

"Garrett," Dorian cried as he rushed to his lover's side, instantly setting his healing magic to work.

"He alright," Bull asked as he moved to check on Fenris.

"Yes," the grey eyed mage sighed after concluding that the big man had only given himself a nap worthy concussion, "You?"

"I'll have an annoying headache for a bit, your man hit's hard; put his heart into it that's for sure!"

"Well he certainly did not put his _brain_ ," Dorian muttered as he debated whether or not he would be able to manage picking up the big Ferelden.

"Here," Iron Bull said appearing at the Tevinter mage's side, "I can carry 'em both, this one is light as a feather," he added as he shrugged Fenris' dead weight with his left shoulder.

"I would very much appreciate that."

Bull hefted Garrett up onto his other shoulder and wordlessly he and Dorian made their way up to the big mage's chambers. The Qunari warrior laid the still unconscious Ferelden down on his bed then turned to face the grey eyed mage. "You sure you're alright," the mercenary leader asked softly.

The Tevinter mage's eyes flashed a mixture of anger and sadness even as he tossed a nonchalant shrug. "Yes Bull, I am fine. I just wish that this lummox was awake so that I could talk to him about what happened…it cannot happen again and there's only one way to resolve _this_ ," he said motioning between the two sleeping men. "I tried to get him to talk to Fenris and he refused, and now it has come to _this_ , and _this_ I cannot do."

"I hear ya," the massive warrior said as he reached out to lightly squeeze Dorian's shoulder. "It will work out. If anyone can get Big Hawke to do anything it would be you…and as always, if you need, my door is open," the Qunari added with a wink as he moved towards the door. "Take care Dorian."

After Bull had gone the grey eyed mage moved about the room in a silent cloud of edging hopelessness. He reset the bones in his arm, healed the gash across his lover's forehead, and managed to get the big man undressed and tucked in before lying down himself. For a while he stared up at the ceiling: thinking about what Bull had said, thinking about what Fenris had shouted at him during their fight, thinking about how badly he wished that Garrett had just _talked_ to the elf in the first place. And his ring…oh the ring…he had put his heart and soul into that little band. It had been _perfect_ , and just a few weeks ago giving it to the big mage had been all that he could think of! Now here he was. Lying in bed next to his unconscious lover, nursing wounds he had received in a brutal _brawl_ with said-lover's ex.

 _'What are you going to do now Pavus?'_

It was the question that always had the power to crush his mind that weighed him down into a well-deserved slumber.

* * *

Garrett awoke with a small jolt.

The big mage blinked up at the dark ceiling above him as his mind reeled back into action. He remembered Cole, the tavern wall exploding, Dorian and Fenris fighting, Iron Bull trying to hold him back, and then…oh yes…he had head butted the Qunari. An utterly _brilliant_ move on his part the big man thought as he sat up, gingerly moving his fingers to his forehead.

Surprisingly he felt no pain.

Then Garrett's eyes moved to the form at his side.

Dorian lay on his back his face a rumpled frown even as he slept, his left arm clutched protectively against his chest. Dried blood caked the lower part of the handsome mage's jaw and the sight made the Ferelden's temper begin to boil all over again.

Tenderly he cast a healing aura over his lover, using his magic to numb Dorian's body in order to remove the smaller man's clothing as he worked. Fractured ribs, the broken bones in his left arm, deep bruising, cuts and scrapes, he healed it all until not even the faintest mark would remain from his lover's fight with Fenris. Then the big mage moved to retrieve the heavy fur blanket from the foot of the bed and pulled it over the both of them.

He couldn't believe that things had escalated to this point. He had really hoped that he could just ignore the elf and pretend that he had never come at all. Wait out the storm, so to speak. But _this_ …Dorian hurt because of _him_ , because _he_ had not dealt with a problem that was his own…he could not let it stand, and there was only one way to fix it.

He was going to have to talk to Fenris.

The very idea made Garrett's heart attempt to skitter out of his chest, but this wasn't about what he _wanted_ to do. No, this was what needed to be done, for everyone involved. With a heavy sigh the big mage resigned himself to his fate then moved to curl protectively around the smaller man at his side. One large arm looped down around Dorian's waist as Garrett leaned in to nuzzle his nose against the back of his lover's right ear.

The grey eyed mage drifted up from his slumber and awoke with a soft contented groan. "Garrett?..." The hulking Ferelden hummed in response as he moved to place a series of slow open mouthed kisses along the back and side of the other man's strong neck.

Dorian had wanted to be two things when his lover had regained consciousness: already awake, and righteously angry. Unfortunately for him, he was currently neither, nor did he really wish to mount the effort to become upset again. He was far too drained, and the small waves of pleasure tingling down his spine were much more alluring anyway.

"I'm sorry," the big mage whispered as he tugged Dorian over onto his back. "I promise you that what happened tonight will not happen again. I'm going to have a chat with Fenris first thing in the morning." Grey eyes widened and the blue eyed mage nodded firmly to accentuate his point, " _First. Thing_ …but right now I don't want to dwell on that, I just…" Garrett's voice broke off and his eyes shifted away, closing briefly as a wave of emotions passed over his face.

"Amatus," Dorian breathed, reaching up a hand to cup his lover's cheek. "What is it?"

"I was worried about you," the big mage whispered. "I know what Fenris is capable of and I…I'll never let you go Dorian. Not for anything," Garrett said fiercely as he leaned in to give his lover a long languid kiss. " _Anything_."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hello my lovely readers! I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter!**


	32. Chapter 32: Cease-Fire

The sun rose with a particular vengeance the next morning. Cullen could feel the heated rays searing past his shuttered eyelids, and boring into the back of his skull. With a low angry groan the Commander pried himself from the languid reprieve of slumber and braced to face the dawn.

"What in the nug-shit-soaked hell happened!" Tara's livid sounding voice did the military commander's headache no favors. He managed to open his eyes and squint up apologetically at the Inquisitor who was currently leaning directly over him. A frown pulled down the corners of her mouth, and her thick eyebrows furrowed impressively as she awaited his response.

Cullen licked at his cracked lips and decided that if his head was going to hurt this much anyway, he might as well have a bit of fun with it. "When," he asked cheekily.

"Last night sod-it, you _know_ when! Unless Aiden giving you that set of black eyes also fogged your memory."

 _Ah yes…the head butt, a family favorite move of the evening if he remembered correctly._

"Well," Tara asked once more as she crossed her arms firmly across her chest, and set about drumming a pounding rhythm with her toe.

The blackened Commander hefted himself upwards, and took a moment to appreciate all of the other bodies still lying about the demolished tavern as his own head screamed in protest. A few feet away the King of Ferelden sat propped up against half of a table, his petite queen snuggled protectively around his middle, the shattered end of a mug still clenched in her fist.

Aiden and Zevran leaned against one another, matching grins still splayed across their lips. One set split and heavy, the other curved and delicate in its repose.

What a night it had been.

"I trust that no one was killed out there," Cullen asked as he gingerly moved to his feet. "Or I imagine someone would have collected me before this?" At that Tara huffed.

"No. No one was slain on my watch. Not for any lack of trying though, Maker! You should have seen Garrett go after that elf…"

"Truly? I would have imagined that Dorian would have been the one doling out death sentences last night, the way those two went after one another in here."

"You saw what started all of this then?"

Cullen slowly nodded as he lifted a hand to delicately rub at his eyes. They felt bruised, but he couldn't really expect less from a strike driven on by Aiden Amell. The man was a mountain made of meat, just like his cousin.

"I did. Fenris approached Dorian, and something transpired between them…from what I could glean, the elf was in fact the aggressor. Considering the history between him and Garrett, I'm rather impressed that it was not otherwise. Your blood mage did well holding back."

"You call that," Tara said sharply as she hurled a finger at the gaping hole in the tavern wall, " _holding back_?"

"He's your friend," the Commander said levelly. "If he had wanted the elf dead he would have found a _way_ to do so, yes?" That statement brought the Inquisitor up short.

She thought for a long moment before nodding her acceptance. "Yes, you are right…now riddle me this my fine Commander. Why would Aiden Amell seek you out in a brawl hmm? I had no idea that the two of you held bad blood between you."

So long ago…years…in the Mage Tower of Ferelden…

"It was… _I_ was once not so kind in my thinking or _speaking_ of mages. Aiden apparently remembered this. He words before he did this," Cullen said softly as he motioned to his blackened eyes, "were 'I have never thanked you for your kind words in the Tower'."

Tara's eyes narrowed. "What happened in this Tower? You have never spoken of it to me, and I have declined to ask. You are a man who speaks only when he wishes after all." Cullen's groan seeped into the Inquisitor's bones.

"Suffice it to say…perhaps we may talk later? Somewhere more private, and when my head is no longer ringing? Please Love?" The endearment melted away Tara's surly exterior.

"Of course Darling, forgive me, I wanted answers to last nights' racket so badly that I forgot who and where we were. We shall talk later. First I need to start waking up the rest of these…" she cast a glance at the loudly snoring Aiden before seeping out the word, "louts. You go to your chambers and rest up, get a good meal in you. Maybe see a healer about your face. Then we shall talk."

"As you command my Inquisitor," Cullen replied, his voice dripping like warm honey. "Until later."

"Until later," Tara confirmed with a nod, before walking over to Aiden and kicking one of his booted feet. "Wake up Amell! You have some explaining to do!"

* * *

Fenris could not recall another event in recent memory in which he had been so thoroughly battered. He had spent the last several months hunting down Venatori, been outnumbered on occasion a dozen to one, and still he had never hurt so badly in the days following as he did now.

His body's one solace was the heat seeping into his bones from beneath him.

He must have crawled into Hawke's bed at some point…wait…

The memory of the split second sight of the enraged goliath just before he had hit him…the ground racing towards his face…Hawke was no longer his, so what or _who_ was he lying on?

Fenris moved to bolt upright, intent on putting as much distance between himself and whatever was beneath him, but a massive arm was much faster. It coiled around his middle, halting the elf's retreat, and the warrior's now open eyes fell upon the face of the Qunari mercenary. The Iron Bull.

A casual eye looked up at him, a cheeky grin already in place over the massive warrior's thin lips as he chuckled, "Good morning Dragon Slayer."

"Release me," the elf snarled in response.

"Okay," Bull retorted with a snort. His large arm slipped away as he sat up, causing Fenris to tumble down onto the bed below. The nimble elf caught himself and shifted to sit upon the far edge his bright green eyes glaring daggers into the Qunari gazing so calmly back at him.

"What happened?"

The question was abrupt and harsh. It was all he could think to say. Fenris knew that he had been drunk when he had picked the fight with Hawke's…with the _Magister_ , but he also knew he was not drunk enough to act like Zevran and tumble into the wrong bed. So how _had_ he managed to wind up in, of all people, The Iron Bull's room?

"Well," the Qunari drawled languidly, "after your ex handsomely put your lights out he and I tussled a bit. Once _that_ little drama ended I collected you and brought you here. I didn't think you'd appreciate waking up in the infirmary, but still, I wasn't about to just let you nap on the ground outside. You did hit your head pretty hard a few times, might not have woken back up."

"…Why was I lying on _top_ of you?"

At that Iron Bull shrugged. "Beats me. I had you all settled in beside him, even put a pillow between us for your decency's sake. But low and behold, when I wake up to check to see if you're still breathing later, there you are, cuddly as a kitten on top of me."

"You could have…removed me," Fenris stammered out in a huff.

"But you just looked so…so…CUTE!" The elf blanched his expression positively aghast. Bull couldn't help the laughter that thundered out of him in response, which only added the color of confusion to Fenris' face.

Just then a firm knock upon the Charger leader's door caused the laughter to fade away as the massive mercenary called out, "Who is it?"

"…It's me, Garrett."

Iron Bull noted how the elf beside him turned into a block of ice at the sound of that voice. Then he called out, "What do ya need Hawke?"

A small silence stretched out as Fenris' gaze burned holes through the closed door across the room. The mage sighed loudly, and Bull would have sworn he _heard_ the man's shoulders dip down.

"I need to speak with Fenris…he is in there isn't he?" The mercenary leader turned his eye to cast the elven warrior an inquisitive glance. The white haired man swallowed hard before calling out in a surprisingly even tone, "I am here. I shall be out in a moment."

Iron Bull gained his feet and cleared his throat as he moved across the room. "If you two want some privacy you are welcome to my chambers for the time being. But, if either of you break anything I'll have your skins," he threatened with a wink before opening the door.

Fenris' heart lodged firmly in his throat as the deep blue gaze of Garrett Hawke collided with his own. Bull slipped past the mage, offering only a small look of gentle warning before leaving the two men alone. The raven haired Hawke moved into the room and shut the door behind him then moved no further.

A crushing silent noise began to fill the space between the two former lovers.

So much hurt and anger.

So much abandon left untouched.

So many things left unsaid, that could now never be uttered.

Fenris' eyes threatened to bleed fresh tears, and hastily the elf tore his gaze away from the mage's and loudly cleared his throat. "What do you want Hawke," he asked quietly.

"I should begin by apologizing. I should not have…I will not apologize from keeping you from harming Dorian let me be clear, but, I lost myself for a moment last night. I should have talked to you from the beginning instead of ignoring you as if you mean less than a discarded set of boots."

"You do not love me…"

"I still care for you," Hawke abruptly shouted startling them both. The big mage ran a hand over his face, then back through his thick hair as he began pacing. "I will always care about you Fenris. I have since the moment we met over a decade ago, but we are different people. We need and want very diverse things. As much as I have tried, as much as I have _desired_ for us to work, we are unfortunately two pieces that do not fit together."

"But you _fit_ well with a Tevinter Magister who just happens to also be a _blood mage_!"

"Yes! Yes I do," Garrett thundered back. "As hard as it is for you to comprehend Fenris there are in fact other good mages in this world other than me."

"His blood magic will one day consume him, and you as well, should you be the one positioned conveniently closest."

"I could stand here until I am dead and I would convince you of nothing. Once you choose your hate, it never goes away, and I will not shame Dorian by defending his character when it does not need defending. You are both good men. I loved you once Fenris, with a burning desire that could never be defeated by something outside of us…you, casually abandoning me as if I am some cup you can pick up and put down at your leisure _that_ is what the end of us was."

"I never casually abandoned you…you are not a cup…you are the man I love, and as a fellow man of duty and justice I thought you would understand why I had to go after the Venatori."

"You could have bloody woken me up and told me to my face for once! You could have asked me to go with you, but you _did not_! Do you see this?" Garrett took a deep breath and held up a hand halting the elf's response. "I would have gone with you, but I was not even asked. That is the past, a year ago, and feels closer to a lifetime ago. We cannot change the past, you cannot take back leaving without a word, and I cannot take back my decision to take that as we were over. Love is not supposed to be as hard as it was for us Fenris."

"This whole time," the elf said softly his eyes roaming his hands as they lay in his lap, "I thought I was doing something right. That I was defending the Free-Marches and Kirkwall… _our home_ and that when I returned you would be there. Now I find you in Ferelden, demons falling from the sky around you, and you are in love with a blood mage and have forgotten about me."

"I never forgot about you Fenris. But I learned to accept the reality of our relationship. I would always be left wondering and waiting if I remained with you. It is not a bad thing that you come and go as you please. It is a part of your nature and that I accept, but I need something different than that. You will never change, and that is okay, I don't want you to. I would never want you to change, not for me, not for anyone. But neither will I change. I will not happily sit and wait, wondering when the person I care for will return. I just came to tell you that. I came to tell you that I still care about you. But you need to learn to accept that I am with Dorian now. I love him and we do well together. Please, no more fighting over this, there are many more important things that we all need to focus on right now."

Fenris sat in silence, considering Hawke's words as calmly as he could even though each felt like a razor in his heart. Slowly he nodded, his shoulders slumping forward in defeat. "You…you are right Hawke, as you always are. I will leave you and your Magister alone…I will leave Ferelden as soon as I am able to collect the coin to do so as well."

"You do not have to leave Fenris," Hawke said as he took a small step towards his former lover then rocked back into his place by the door. "It is not as if I cannot stand the sight of you or something. You could even be quite comfortable if you were to throw your lot in with Iron Bull and his men."

"A mercenary?"

"You say that as if you have never killed for coin before," Garrett chuckled. "Iron Bull seems to have taken a liking to you as it is. All I am saying is that it is an option, and I think it would be a good one."

After a long pause Fenris lifted his gaze back to squarely meet the big mage's as he grunted out, "Perhaps…go now Hawke. I shall see you later should I remain."

The hulking mage nodded and turned to the door, then paused. "I meant it. I will always care for you Fenris. Just because it is not what we both wanted it to be, does not diminish what we have been through or the friendship we have built. Remember that."

To that the elf said nothing. He simply watched the man he had loved with all that he had slip away. After the door closed Fenris waited for the rage, for the tears, but nothing happened. He was numb. His mind slowly chewing over everything that Hawke had said, and finally settling to gnaw on a single thought.

Iron Bull returned to find the elf sitting as still as stone, glaring at a spot on the wall across from his place on the edge of his bed.

"How did it go," the Qunari asked slowly.

"Well enough."

"Did you two work it all out then? I don't see any property damage or blood…couldn't hear any screaming from the courtyard…"

"He and I are done," Fenris whispered sounding empty and lost. Iron Bull cleared his throat unsure how to comfort the warrior. "But the _Magister_ and I are not."

That got Bull's attention. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I shall do as I swore to Hawke and be at peace with the _Blood Mage_ , but the second his tainted magic _touches_ Hawke…I do not care if it is the last thing I ever do. I will tear _Dorian Pavus_ to pieces."


	33. Chapter 33: The Heart Wants

**Author's Note. I am apparently losing my mind as last night I uploaded the same chapter I had last time. Very smooth of me. This has been corrected my dear readers and I apologize for the confusion. I hope you continue to enjoy my retelling of this adventure. I must warn you, things are going to begin deviating from the actual game in chapters to come. Good vibes and love your way dear readers.**

* * *

Hawke walked back to his rooms in the Keep as a deep weight fell from his shoulders. He had made peace with Fenris. Even if the elven warrior did not feel the same, there was little he could do.

He was no longer content being a martyr upon the pillars of the happiness of others. No.

Now he sought to hold his own corner of the world firmly in his grasp, and that included a long lifetime with someone he loved. And that someone was Dorian Pavus. Happiness swelled in Garrett's chest causing him to take the steps up to the Keep two at a time. Excitement continued to build in the big mage as he strode into the Main Hall.

He almost went by Varric without so much as a nod, but then a hooded figure caught his eye.

Another dwarf by the looks of it, and a woman at that, stood talking in hushed but clearly agitated whispers to the grim looking Storyteller. Garrett halted his stride and then moved to stand just a few feet from the talking couple.

He cleared his throat loudly causing both of the dwarves to abruptly end their conversation and turn to face him. The woman sent him a leering grin as her eyes raked over him. "This _must_ be Hawke," she said in a voice that was meant to be a purr, though to the mage it was every bit a snarl.

"Yes," Varric bit out, with a warning glance at the still grinning woman, "this is one of the Hawkes…sorry," the Storyteller muttered as he shot his friend an apologetic glance, "I..this is…"

"Bianca Davis, a pleasure to meet you."

Garrett's eyebrows attempted to vault to the ceiling above him as he blinked down at the dwarf before him. "…As in…"

"Yes Hawke _that_ Bianca," Varric whispered roughly.

"And what would _this_ Bianca be doing in Skyhold," the big mage asked even as an all too familiar feeling of unease began to settle like a stone in his stomach.

* * *

"Red Lyrium…from the same thaig we found…is everything we did in Kirkwall going to come back to bite us in the ass?" Marian had not stopped pacing since the news Bianca had shared with Garrett had been passed on in the war room. The warrior's agitation was felt by many of those in attendance, none more so than Varric who hadn't spoken a word in hours. "Andraste's tits and the Maker's ass…this is my fault," the eldest Hawke suddenly said as she leaned forward across the mapped table top to face a calm looking Inquisitor. "I was there when we found that bloody thaig, I should have seen to it that it was sealed away. My neglect then has lead at least in part to Corypheus being able to have it now. Grant me some men Tara and I swear to you I shall make sure that this is rectified."

"You're being too hard on yourself Marian," the petite rouge said softly, "no one could have known that this would happen. But I do agree that we must shut off Corypheus' ability to reach the lyrium."

"What of the Temple I told you of in the Arbor Wilds," Morrigan said hautily moving forward to stand just behind the Inquisitor. "Have you forgotten that Corypheus is seeking something far more powerful than lyrium there?"

"Of course, how silly of me," Tara hissed out as she turned to glare down the witch. "No Morrigan, I have not, I am merely trying to decide how to divide my most important companions in order to complete these tasks. "Bianca, do you know how well guarded Valammar is?"

"Between the patrols of Venatori and the lurking demons I'd imagine _quite_ well."

"I see," Tara said nodding at the dwarf. "Leave us," the Inquisitor then said in a cool tone that left no room for argument. For a moment Bianca stood her ground then stiffly she bowed before moving to leave the war room, the door falling heavily shut behind her.

"An army will be awaiting us in the Wilds," Morrigan muttered. "Surly you have some capable people who could handle a few scouts demon or otherwise."

"Marian you will take: Varric, Vivienne, Solas, Blackwall, Cassandra, and the Chargers with you…all but Bull, I'm sorry but I will need as many heavy hitters as I can get. I'm going to send Zevran with you as well, but his only directive is going to be keeping an eye on that _Bianca_ character. I'm sorry Varric, I understand the implications of her name, but I don't trust her."

"The feeling is becoming mutual," the Storyteller muttered.

"Inquisitor you realize that you're only leaving yourself two mages and the Iron Bull," Garrett said quietly. "Not that I don't think we would serve you well…but one warrior alone on the front lines? Even Qunari get tired."

"You're right…so I hope that you do not hate me after this…Your cousin is too susceptible to Corypheus' influence. I know that he is strong, but I cannot risk my newly instated Warden Commander so soon after those who remain have found stability serving under him."

"I agree," Garrett said steadily, a part of him already knowing what was to come next.

"Good. Then you shall also understand that this is why I am bringing Fenris along with us?"

To that the big mage nodded slowly, his eyes deep and serene in their gaze as it met Tara's. "He is a warrior with few peers. If he agrees to accompany us he would be a valuable asset."

"It is settled then," the Inquisitor said as she squared her shoulders. "Cullen, Lelianna, please remain as we have much to discuss in the way of battle plans. The rest of you see to it that you all get some rest. We will need it if we are going to pull this off."

* * *

Dorian sat quietly in the fluffy armchair seated in the corner of Garrett's quarters pretending to read the book lying carelessly in his lap.

He had not seen Hawke since he left to talk to Fenris.

That had been several hours ago.

The Tevinter Altus tried to quell the feeling of unease that flourished in his stomach. Dorian had a good imagination, and currently he wished that this was not the case. Several unpleasant scenarios had begun to play out in his mind as to _what_ or _why_ his lover had been so delayed. Each time he wrestled for control of his thoughts.

Garrett loved him but he had a lot of unfinished business with the elf.

Garrett was kind. He would have undoubtedly talked to Fenris as long as the warrior needed in order to come to terms with their new non-relationship. Or perhaps the lyrium tattooed warrior had gotten more than a goodbye…

The idea of Hawke with Fenris' lithe muscled body wrapped around him. Touching him as he always had…no.

No. Garrett would be back soon and have a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Or maybe he was not coming back? Maybe he was going to run away with the elf…

Maybe an enraged Fenris could not bear to lose his former lover…what if he had attacked the big mage? What if Garrett's defenses had been down?

Dorian silently admonished himself, setting his book aside as he stood. Fenris was a good fighter, but he was not _that_ good.

Soon, his love would return. They would talk. His worries would vanish. It was simply too much silence and too many concerning thoughts that were making him feel so anxious. Garrett would come back to their rooms and all would be well.

But what if it was not so?

What if he was wrong?

The thought of losing Hawke to another made Dorian's skin crawl. He truly only wanted the big Ferelden to be happy…but all the same his heart would shatter.

True enough he had been slighted before, his feelings hurt, crushed even if one considered a few encounters from his youth…But Garrett Hawke was nothing like them. Losing him would be a blow to his soul. Something he would feel in his every breath for years to come Dorian feared.

Why had he let the other man get so close? He knew better. Better than to allow himself to become so vulnerable…but again Garrett was _different_ …wasn't he?

The door to the room abruptly opened and in stepped the very mage Dorian had waited all day for. Garrett's eyes moved to seal with his lover's own gaze. He saw the hesitance there, the big mage did, and his heart fluttered.

"Mo chuilse, I am so sorry it took me so long to return. Some very…interesting things have occurred."

"Oh," Dorian said as a false smile split his lips, "and just what were these _interesting_ things hmm?" _A white haired elf?_

"I met Bianca, as in _Varric's_ Bianca."

"What! And did no one think to come and fetch me?"

"I'm sorry love, I know how you _adore_ intrigue…she had, news of sorts. A lead on where Corypheus is getting his red lyrium from."

"You sound as if you do not trust Varric's source? Or at least her sources I should say."

"She knows too much about the operation to be _just_ a spy. If Iron Bull gave me a report as detailed as her I would be skeptical, that's how pointed her knowledge was."

"What else? There must be more…you seem as if you are taking this personally?" Garrett moved to stand in front of Dorian. Absentmindedly his large hands began to smooth over the bare skin of his lover's arms. The grey eyed mage shivered in response.

"Marian is going to lead the expedition down to this source. Her orders are to destroy it, if she and her company are not likewise dealt with by the demons and Venatori guarding the shit. Meanwhile you and I will be half a world away following Morrigan's lead regarding the Temple in the Arbor Wilds…and…Fenris will be in our company."

Dorian bristled slightly, but he managed to keep his face and tone neutral as he said, "Is that so?" Hawke nodded slowly.

"Yes. I spoke with him. Made myself as clear as I could to him, weather he can accept the truths I told or not is not of my concern. I once adored Fenris…a part of me will always care about him…but it was never, and never will be anything like I feel for you." At that Dorian's heart swelled as a few unbidden tears swam into his gaze.

"Garrett…"

"I mean it. I cannot change who I am. If Fenris and I were able to have a friendship, I would have it. I would still lay down my life to protect him just as I would any other, but you…I would give up my magic for the rest of my life just to see you safe. To see you happy and comfortable is the greatest quest of my life. If once this war is over that means shedding my furs and moving across the world to somewhere hot and sandy, I will do it without question…okay that was a bad example but my point _is_ , I would do _anything_ for _you_ Dorian of the house of Pavus. You're the wind beneath this hawk's wings I'll have you know!"

For a few seconds Dorian's mouth opened and shut without being able to form a single coherent sound. Then the mustached mage smiled and reached out to cup the other man's face in his hands. "I know my Hawke…I really do…I…"

The big mage tilted his head to the side, reaching one of his own large hands up to rest over the top of one of Dorian's. "Darling man…you thought I wasn't coming back didn't you?"

"I...wondered for a few horrible moments. I knew better, but the mind wants what it wants. Mine apparently wanted me to worry myself some grey hairs." Garrett chuckled warmly at that as his other hand reached out thread his fingers through the Tevinter man's raven black hair.

"I will be _here_ with you, where I belong Dorian until the day that we are both old and grey." The Tevinter man's grip on Garrett's face tightened as he roughly drew the taller man down into a kiss.

"You are _mine_ Amatus," he growled with a possessiveness that startled them both. Hawke let out a gasping laugh as he kissed his lover back.

"Until the day I die." Suddenly Dorian was overcome.

When the sun rose they would be off to face some new unknown horror. They could both die. One of them could be left alone in a world that was literally falling apart. What had he been thinking hesitating? Waiting? There was simply no time to spare; on worrying, on doubt, and certainly not on the _perfect moment_.

The grey eyed mage pulled back and wordlessly pushed Garrett down until he was seated on the edge of their bed. "Dorian?"

"I have traveled the world," the Tevinter Altus said softly as he held onto the other mage's hands tightly. "I have seen many things, met many people. I have sampled the finest wines and eaten delicacies that others have never heard of. But in all my wandering…in all my searching, I have never found anything that I could remotely call home. Somewhere I felt cherished and safe. Something that made all other things seem dull." Dorian sank down onto one knee, his eyes boring in Garrett's own now wide blue orbs. "Until I met you. When I am with you, there is no other place I could want to be more. For the rest of my life I swear to you my loyalty, my love, and my protection. If you would have me, I would be your husband. Garrett Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, will you marry me?"

It was the hulking Ferelden's turn to stare speechless.

"When…how long have you…"

"I had a ring. It was custom made just for you. Just for this moment but…It was lost. It doesn't matter. I'll buy you a new one. I just…I could not wait another minute to say those words. I wanted to find the right time the perfect place, but I have come to realize that by waiting I was wasting precious moments I could be openly sharing with the man I love. So…will you? You do not have to by any means. If you need more time I can wait. I will happily wait. I just, needed, you to know exactly how _I_ felt."

"More time? Maker's balls Dorian! The last thing I need is more time to decide what I want. I decided long ago that I was going to spend the rest of my life at you side. Just _try_ and stop me now!"

A glint of mischief passed through those misty orbs, and suddenly Dorian launched himself up at his lover sending them both toppling back down onto the fur covered bed. Garrett was tender, even shy in his movements. But his Tevinter counterpart had no such inhibitions.

He shucked off his own clothing in a reckless haste, barely taking the time to untie and unbuckle his lover's clothes as well. It was as if some deep fever had taken hold of him. He had to _have_ Garrett. To taste him, to absorb him, until they were one breath, one skin, one pulse.

Tomorrow might never come again.

They both knew it, so they made sure they did not waste the night.


	34. Chapter 34: Hot Then You're Cold

"We should make camp."

"You 'eard the lady, post up," Krem called out signaling back to the trailing troupe behind them.

"I'm going to go on ahead…scout things out." A hand softly gripped Marian Hawke's elbow halting her stride.

"You should not go alone," Bull's Lieutenant whispered. "If this place is as dangerous as the dwarf says I will go with you." A moment's pause followed by a sparkling smile.

"You're right. Come then, we need to find a good vantage point."

The two moved out and away from their group, passing Zevran's shadow as they made their way deeper into the cavernous jungle that signaled the opening to Valammar. A slit of a moon hung high above them in the sky overhead casting just enough light to see where they were going. It was oddly soothing the sounds of water rushing somewhere in the distance, all manner of birds and creatures of the forest singing in the dark.

Krem plucked a white flower from its home as he passed it, twirling it between his thumb and forefinger. His gaze moved from the silken petals to Marian Hawke's armored back as she crept like a great cat before him through the foliage. She paused, turning back to say something about the direction they were going, but her words died on her lips as Cremisius leaned forward with a beautiful orchid in his hand. His other hand moved to the side of her face, holding her jaw lightly as he slid the flower's stem behind her left ear and into her tightly woven braid.

He kissed her then, a soft fleeting thing, before pulling back and letting his hand fall to find her own. Krem took the lead then, casting laughing glances back at the woman he cared for as he blazed the trail. He and the Chargers had been to this area once before.

They hadn't had cause to disturb the mine of Valammar then, but he had insisted on exploring a small portion anyway and found himself a treasure of sorts. Abruptly the brunette warrior stopped and turned to grin excitedly at Marian. "What," the tall auburn haired woman whispered with a giggle in her throat.

"Close your eyes. Just trust me," Krem added as an afterthought. Marian cocked an eyebrow at the Lieutenant but then let her eyes fall shut as she was bidden. The hand woven through hers tugged insistently. She followed along feeling the earth gingerly with each step, trusting that should she trip Krem would catch her.

An arm slipped around her waist, guiding her a few more steps forward. She could feel the pale light of the moon upon her face and the roar of the rushing water seemed much closer now.

"Open them," Krem whispered, his voice warm as it coaxed over the auricle of her right ear. Marian's eyes opened with a small shiver.

Her lips parted, eyes gleaming in the pearlescent glow of the moon as it filtered through the magnificent waterfall before them. Massive dwarven statues guarded the entrance to the mine, their imposing forms cloaked in thick blankets of moss.

"It's beautiful," the eldest Hawke breathed.

 _So are you_ , Krem thought to himself as he watched Marian take in the scene. The brown haired warrior moved his hand down into the crease of his breastplate and pulled forth the two halves of the dragon's tooth he had collected long ago.

He had been holding off giving the other warrior his small trophy. The significance of the pendants was something far greater than where they were in their relationship. A flower just beginning to bloom, and one which he had no desire to damage with hasty maneuvers. But somehow, watching Marian in the glowing moonlight…he wanted her to know that he was going to be there for her. That no matter what happened between them he would always have her back.

Words would have been simple enough Krem supposed, but he had never had a knack for them. And flowers…gemstones, fancy dinners…other girls might have liked those, maybe Marian did too. But knowing what he did of her, they just seemed to be shallow attempts when it came to winning the Hawke's favor.

"Um…" Cremisius cleared his throat as he removed one of the pieces from around his throat and stepped up beside the lanky woman. "I got you something."

The portion of the dragon's tooth seemed to almost shimmer in the light as Krem held it out to Marian. "Is that what I think it is," the auburn haired warrior said excitedly as she took the tooth. She turned it over in her hands like a joyous child. "Maker take me it is! Is this from the Hinterlands High Dragon Krem?"

"It is…it is custom in the Qun to er…give such trophies to those that you adore or who you want t' know that you'll always be there." The lieutenant held up his own portion of the tooth. "Even when we aren't together, this means that I still have you with me, and that you will have me with you too."

Marian's face shifted oddly as she stared down at the tooth. Then tears filled her night sky blue eyes.

 _I messed up!_

"I love it…Andraste's tits…I never…" The tall warrior paused to loop the plain leather strap around her neck and compose herself.

"You do? Then…please don' cry," Krem said as he took a tentative step forward his hand hanging uselessly in the air, wanting to touch and comfort but not knowing if he should.

"I do Krem. You make me feel so special…I mean look at this place! We're about to lay siege to an abandoned mine stuffed full of toxic Red Lyrium and you're just…perfect," she breathed with a smile.

"Well," the blushing lieutenant stammered, "I don't know about tha…"

Marian closed the gap between the two of them in one long legged step. Her hands tightly gripped the small portion of shirt resting along Krem's neck as she pulled him in for a kiss. The pieces of the dragon's tooth clinked together between them as the kiss deepened. "I've told you about Anders and I have told you that I never expected to feel anything towards anyone ever again," Marian whispered against his lips. "But whenever we're like this…whenever I think of you Krem my heart soars. I'm falling for you and I'm not even sure how it happened. You don't pursue me like some blooded hound, you barely even flirt sometimes…it's all just so wonderfully natural and casual when I'm with you."

"Soun's like you might get bored," the brunette muttered shyly.

"Bored? Krem I _need_ something solid in my life. I feel as if I have been on one endless 'adventure' since my hometown was destroyed by Darkspawn. I have gone from Ferelden, to Kirkwall, all over the Free-Marches, Orlais…I'm getting older. My litter brother is going to settle down with Dorian one day and every time I imagine their life I think to myself, that's what I want. I want a _home_ again, and right now I can't have that, but when I get back from a mission and drag myself into the Herald's Rest you know what? I see you, and I can at least be at home in my heart." The tall warrior's gaze was piercing and steadfast. "I haven't felt this welcome and safe in a long time"

Krem swallowed hard his heart racing in his chest as Marian's words lit a fight within him. "I don't know if you'll be with me forever Mar, but I can promise you right now that as long as I have you I'm goin' to try an' give you the world."

"I don't want the world Cremisius Aclassi, I want you."

"You can 'ave me," Krem said as his hands fell to tenderly grip Marian's hips. The tall woman's eyes fell shut as she looped her arms around the Lieutenant's neck to kiss him once more. Then clever fingers moved to the buckles holding Krem's chest plate together, undoing them each one by one.

The Charger Lieutenant could not think of another moment in his life that his heart had beat quite so forcefully in his chest.

He had managed a few interludes over the years, but he had also always had fair amount of ale inside him and his clothing decidedly on. His lovers were satisfied, his secret was on occasion safe if it had not already been put in the open, and he never had to worry about the physical logistics of not having all of the bits appropriated to other men.

However with Marian about to strip him down in the midst of the woods he knew he needed to think fast. Think of what to do, how to explain, when to…

"Krem."

"Yes?"

The auburn beauty's lips twisted into a light laughing smile. "I don't know what I'm doing at all. But I know that you want me, and that I want you, and that no matter what happens it will be okay. We'll learn, enjoy it." Marian's words blew the wind right out of Cremisius' worried sails, leaving behind only pleasant warmth.

"You're right," he murmured as he shrugged off his plate and, in a bold move, also stripped away his undershirt.

"Maker you're a sight," Marian breathed as she moved her hands up to mold the powerful muscles coiling Krem's upper arms. "Were you always so strong?"

"I was always a little bigger, even bigger than some of the boys when I was growin' up. I think my body knew I was meant to be a man just a hair before I did."

As Krem spoke he moved to undo the straps holding together Marian's own armor. He had had the layout nearly memorized since the day he had cleaned it for her by the spring. A clasp here, another there, one that you had to shift just so because it had been bent…Every movement was precise and charged until her armor as well fell away.

The eldest Hawke was not shy when it came to her body. She stood proudly, with all of the bearing of some ancient goddess, her skin shining white in the moonlight, a stark contrast to the patch of darker hair at the junction of her thighs. Where Krem's body was comprised of bulky muscle, Marian's was all long packed lines of wired strength. Her bone structure still gave away her more feminine features however. A dip at the waist, a curve at the hip.

Long strong fingers moved to the laces of Krem's chest covering, and softly he halted her progress. "Would you mind if it…stayed?"

"Oh a little leather in the bedroom eh," Marian asked with a peck and a wink. "Kinky." Krem's fingers laced through her hair, still careful as to not disturb the flower he had placed earlier, as he pulled her into a fierce kiss. Maker but Marian Hawke was a dream, an unbelievable dream.

He found a patch of soft grass and laid the tall warrior down onto her back there, still kissing her as his still pant clad legs nudged hers apart. Fingers slipped lower, brushing over the tantalizing muscle of Marian's abdomen, until they reached the soft expanse of skin just above her mound. There they trailed teasing circles, danced over hip bones, and scraped nails below her navel before finally sinking to find her heat.

Moist curls of hair shielded Marian's womanhood and Krem delighted in her show of comfort with her own body. His fingers gently plied along her lush lips until he found her sweet pearl.

She gasped, back arching as he set about finding how she most loved to be touched. His other hand moved to cup one full breast. Then he sent his thumb to brush over an already taunt nipple causing Marian to moan into his mouth. The eldest Hawke began to shift in earnest now, soft mews of pleasure escaping her lips with reckless abandon. "More please," she gasped just before she bit Krem's lower lip.

He shuddered from that contact as he moved back to shed away his pants.

He smiled down at her and she smiled back.

Krem would give her more, so much more, he would give her everything that he could.

* * *

The next morning they descended upon the mine.

The fighting was hard and at times cramped beyond all comprehension and as always Marian was at the front. Sometimes with her only help behind her, she took on demons and all other manner of foe, hammering forward like an unwavering tide of rightful vengeance. She was here to correct the folly of the expedition she and her brother had taken part in all those years ago and nothing was going to stop her.

They broke through walls, tore apart ladders and blasted away equipment necessary for the mining of the accursed red lyrium until all that was left was to seal the entrance.

Worn but with adrenaline still pumping through her veins Marian approached the massive Dwarven door. "Seal it," she commanded without so much as casting a glance at Bianca. Varric's _friend_ had been rather useful when it came to opening and closing the doors littered throughout Valammar. It was not a huge surprised really considering that she had in fact built said doors…the surprised was when she produced a key that look exactly like the one Corypheus' men had had.

Marian waited until the dwarf had sealed the door then, just as Bianca turned around, she pounced like a cat. One hand wrapped soundly around the surprised woman's throat as the warrior easily hefted her up into the air. The furious auburn haired beauty slammed the dwarf against the door and leveled the tip of her blade with her throat.

"If you lie to me I will make your death as slow as my rage will allow," Marian hissed her eyes blazing. "How did Corypheus' men get a copy of _that_ key?"

"Hawke," Varric said as he stepped up to his friend's side, "she's helping us!"

" _She_ is how these things were able to get at the red lyrium," Marian shouted her voice echoing off the walls of the thaig. "Answer me you chubby little cunt, did you _give_ them the key?" After a short pause the warrior intensified her grip and Bianca finally choked out, "I was trying to help Varric!"

"Oh so you were trying to help Varric by giving unimaginable power to the greatest threat a collective Thedas has faced in centuries? How fucking thoughtful of you!"

"I was trying to learn about the red lyrium to help Bartrand! Varric knew I was!" Marian's murderous gaze moved slowly to meet the Storyteller's gaze.

Varric could not help the shiver that crawled up his spine. Never before had he ever been on the receiving end of either of the Hawkes' wrath. "You _knew_ ," Marian asked in a tone the dwarf could not discern.

"I knew she had found red lyrium…"Varric admitted quietly, "But I told _you_ ," he said pointing a finger at Bianca, "what this shit was like! I told you to stay away from it! That it makes people crazy! I told you about Meredith and what happened to her!"

After a tense moment Marian allowed Bianca to fall to the floor in a sputtering heap as the tall warrior turned to face her old friend fully.

"I believe you Varric. When we return you are both going to tell the Inquisitor _everything_ including what you learned about the lyrium. It is her right to deal with _your_ treachery," she added as she cast a glare at Bianca. "And if you feel like slipping away before Inquisitor Tara has had her way with you. _I_ will come for you. You might be of the Merchant Guild, but I am a _Hawke_. There is not a shadow in all of Thedas you could hide that I would not find you."


	35. Chapter 35: High Five

Fenris stared out into the darkness of the Kokari Wilds that surrounded the Inquisitor's army. It held an uneasy stillness about it this wood. Even the faint breeze seemed to be breathing dangerous secrets all around him. It made his skin crawl and he shivered in response to the creeping sensation. The elf's ears twitched a moment before a low voice asked, "Cold?"

Iron Bull had to give the white haired man credit he did not even flinch in response to being snuck up on. Instead the elf gave a careless shrug as he huffed, "Ferelden is always cold." The lyrium burned warrior did give an odd jolt when Bull placed a warm fur cloak around his squared shoulders which made the massive Qunari chuckle. He stepped up to Fenris' side caring little that the elf always seemed to command a wide birth regarding his personal space.

"This is the part where you say 'thank you' and then I tell you it was no big deal. Just a cloak someone left behind in my tent on another mission…can't remember for the life of me who it was though." Bull's whispered instructions and _forgetfulness_ might have elicited a disbelieving laugh from another person.

Fenris cast the Qunari a raised eyebrow and let out a low grunt in response.

 _Well aren't you just a bundle of fun_.

The elf shifted his stance into one Bull knew well and the Qunari decided to take a new approach before the guarded warrior had a chance. "Let me guess," the mercenary leader began as he turned to face Fenris fully. "You were going to say something about how you came out here to be alone. Something about just _always_ having a hard time sleeping, and how you aren't really up for a conversation. Let us be honest with each other Dragon Slayer. You're sulking, marinating in your loneliness. And the only reason you're doing it on the fringes of camp is because you can hear Garrett and Dorian laughing and chatting the night away and you can't stand it. How am I doing so far?"

Fenris' glare was powerful enough that for a moment Bull wondered if he hadn't actually been wounded. He never showed that it fazed him in the least however. Instead he fixed the elf with a knowing look down the tip of his nose. "I am Ben-Hassrath Dragon Slayer. You neither need to nor can you lie to _me_."

"You are not a very good spy if you're admitting it to everyone you come across," Fenris shot back which caused the Iron Bull to laugh anew.

"I did not say I was spying on the Inquisition per say. My relationship with Tara is more of an exchange of information really. But enough about business, we were talking about you a moment ago. Let's revisit that topic eh?" The elf let out a frustrated huff that would have made Cassandra proud then set about folding his arms neatly over his chest in a clearly defensive more.

"I do not comprehend your interest in this _topic_ but I can see that you are not about to _let it go_. Yes, I came out here to get away from the sounds of Hawke being blissfully involved with a…"

"Blood mage from Tevinter? That is what you were going to call Dorian isn't it? Do you even know his name or have you really stooped to dehumanizing him by calling him that every time you talk about him?"

"He owned slaves like me, I know his family name _well enough_ , and he barely hides his use of blood magic. Why no one else in this _Inquisition_ finds either of those things pertinent or disgusting is beyond me."

"Including Hawke right? Or I suppose that would be _especially_ him. Listen, Dragon Slayer, I see why you're building up all of this hate towards poor Pavus, and you're really doing it for the wrong reasons."

"Oh? Then tell me oh wise Ben-Hassrath, what reasons am I hating the blood mage?"

"You're telling yourself that it is because he stole Garrett away from you and because he might hurt the man you once loved. Except if you really think about it that love was never truly what either of you thought it was. What _you_ really loved about that mountain of meat was his security. If Marian Hawke is the sea her brother is the shore. He is steadfast, immovable, reliable, and tentative. He might have challenged you every now and then but really he's a big pushover when it comes to relationships. You scream too fast, he asks 'how slow do you need me to go' kinds of things."

Fenris swallowed hard, his hands clenching into fists, but he allowed the Iron Bull to continue blathering. He was going to feed the anger building within him while he waited for his turn to respond.

Iron Bull noted the reaction and inwardly smiled. It seemed that he was hammering the head of this particular nail.

"Now I've heard a bit of you story. Meeting the Hawkes, fighting for your freedom, and killing every person in your past who had wronged you save your sister. You're a free man and you wield that freedom like a freshly honed blade. No one will take it from you, never, not even in the pettiest of ways simply because it is yours and you fought hard to get it. Then you get tangled up with a mage who listens to you, not the other way around. And you get a thrill out of that power, the power of your own choice to be there or not. But then you leave one too many times and find out that you took all that rope your man gave you and effectively hung yourself with it. He's moved on, and you're left wondering how you're going to find something that stable and safe again when…that isn't even what you _really_ want or need."

Through clenched teeth the elf asked, "And what exactly is it that I _need_ then?"

"You need someone who isn't afraid to help you find pleasure in _not_ being in control." Bull's words struck a chord deep within Fenris. A series of memories he had long ago buried clawed their way to the fringes of his thoughts. The warrior tamped them out through sheer force of will as he snarled up at the Qunari.

"I have no desire to be a _slave_ in any capacity ever again."

"That isn't what I said Dragon Slayer," the mercenary said in a tone that sent an altogether different kind of chill up the elf's spine. "I said you need to learn to find pleasure in not always being in control. Think about it, even when you were in the bedroom who was leading the pace? If not every time most of the time I'd bet money it was you. And I'd also wager that if you spent one night with me, you'd forget about Garrett Hawke. I wouldn't daintily tip toe around you like you were made of glass. You're a warrior, I've seen you fight. You command that battlefield like few others I have ever seen."

Bull's hands moved to firmly grip Fenris' fore arms as he leaned down to whisper in one of the elf's sensitive ears, "You deserve a moment where you can just let it all go and, _surrender_." The next moment the Qunari was back to standing at Fenris' side a wolf's grin stretching his lips as the shorter warrior moved to pull his newly acquired cloak firmly around himself. "I like our talks. We'll have to chat again more sometime," Iron Bull said as he rolled his shoulders and turned back towards the camp. "Until then, try not to masturbate to the thought of me manhandling you too much. The way the Inquisitor and Cullen carry on we don't need another tent keeping the troops up all night."

With that the Qunari was gone and the forest around Fenris was silent once more. The elf inwardly stewed for a few long minutes until his thoughts came to a crashing halt. An unbidden image of Iron Bull holding him, whispering into his ear…

' _Venhedis Ben-Hassrath!'_

* * *

The fighting was punishing. Down through the valley, across several rivers, up the hills that held them in; Tara and her men carved a body riddled path. The Inquisitor was like a blooded hound, never yielding, never faltering, her every step another pointed victory in her mind. Bolstering her in the midst of battle was her Commander.

Cullen's prowess in battle had never been so poignant. His face masked by a helm in the shape of a lion's head he descended upon the enemy like a one man landslide. His war cries pierced the air over even the most intense fighting rallying his men to stand as one even in the most dire of circumstances.

The Champion of Kirkwall was also a welcome sight to many there. For this battle Garrett had been outfitted with a new set of armor. Its design was a nearly exact replica of the armor he had received as a gift for beating the Qunari Arishock, except this armor's metal was blackened everite. The big mage had never looked so imposing. He fell upon the corrupted mages with all of the vigor of the most devout Templar.

Soon enough they had fought their way to the place that Inquisition scouts had seen Corypheus and his men moving towards. An ancient temple which Morrigan named as the Temple of Mythal.

The ancient elven structure loomed above the trees of the wild forest with an air of mystic authority. At its gates Tara, the Iron Bull, Garrett, Dorian, Morrigan, and Fenris separated from the main body of the army and entered the Temple's sacred grounds.

There they faced a greater horror.

At the entrance of the building they found Corypheus, a few enthralled Wardens and a handful of Venatori fighting against a strange looking group of elves.

"We must help them," Tara hissed as she moved to draw her bow. Morrigan stayed her hand, "Wait."

Corypheus moved towards the elves, when suddenly the pillars at the end of the bridge glowed to life. A brilliant energy erupted from the structures, piercing the Elder One until in a blinding flash, he disintegrated. As the dust settled Tara and her band moved cautiously to the bridge.

The elves there were all dead, and Calpernia had already reached the door located at the other side. The Inquisitor was about to sprint after their new quarry when a sickening sound made her freeze. She turned along with the others to find the body of a Warden writhing upon the earth. Blood spewed from the man's mouth and a moment later a long twisted arm erupted from the mangled meat of his body.

"It cannot be," Morrigan stammered as Corypheus' body began to form before their very eyes.

"Run," Garrett shouted as he shoved Tara into action once more.

Another inhuman shriek sounded not far behind them, followed by the familiar roar of heavy wing beats. Corypheus' dragon was upon them. The combined shields of Morrigan, Garrett, and Dorian was all that saved them from being cooked where they stood but now as the beast landed upon the bridge the group found themselves on the wrong side of a shut door.

"Shit," Iron Bull hissed as he hefted his axe into his hands. "Well…no sense in dying standing around," he muttered before charging at the dragon. Tara looked frantically after the mercenary leader then at Morrigan.

"Don't just stand there figure out how to get this thing open," she cried as she turned to fire arrow after arrow at the creature. Fenris cast a glance at Garrett before taking off after Bull.

"It requires more magic than I alone possess," the Wild's Witch cried as she tried to decipher the elven markings. Garrett was about to head into the fray when Dorian's hand upon his shoulder stayed his stride.

"Help get the door open my gentle Amatus. Let a battle mage handle the beast." Before Garrett could effectively protest Dorian was gone.

The Tevinter mage raced out into the center of the bridge and loosed a volley of magic that exploded loudly around the beast in a series of distracting flashes. Spikes of ice shot up from below the dragon, but even they broke off against the armored plate of its belly. _'We might just die here…'_ Dorian thought bleakly even as he cast another area attack at the dragon's feet.

Bull and Fenris raced around in front of the dragon, dipping between Dorian's covering fire to attempt to, if nothing else, slow the beast down. It seemed to almost actually be working, until Corypheu's pet opened its maw and loosed another blast. Both warriors leapt back, knowing that they could never clear the powerful strike. Then Fenris saw the Tevinter blood mage charge forward.

The mustached mage put himself squarely in the path of the explosive attack and with a passionate shout unleashed the full force of his most powerful shield and ice spell simultaneously. The ensuing thunderous blast carved off a large section of the bridge and knocked Fenris and the Iron Bull off of their feet. The elven warrior heard Garrett's terrified voice call out the other mage's name.

"I think I've deciphered the runes this time," Morrigan said in a trembling voice.

"Damn you and these runes," the massive mage shouted as he dug his fingers into the small gap of the door. With a cry as powerful as an avalanche Garrett used a force spell to blast apart the barrier. The big man then turned to rush out onto the bridge, praying for a miracle, but then he staggered to a halt.

Dorian stood before the Dragon, breathing heavily, but seemingly unscathed. His body shook from the effort of his last spell however, and as Corypheus' pet took a threatening step forward the Tevinter mage slumped down against his staff.

As Garrett shouted in warning the creature swept a clawed paw at his lover's weakened form. _'This will hurt,'_ Dorian thought briefly. Then, he felt a body collide against his and heard the unmistakable grind of metal against bone a split second before he was sent crashing into the stony ground.

The dragon screamed.

Then all went dark.


	36. Chapter 36: Bleeding Together

**Hello my dear readers. I apologize for the lack of excitement and for the short chapters that have been going on in these last few uploads. I know it's a bit jumbled and jumpy. It will get better! Thank you for sampling my work and as always good vibes to you all!**

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The first thing Dorian noticed when he awoke was the cool air upon his face. The Tevinter mage's eyes slowly fluttered open and he found himself staring up at a clear night sky. Thousands of stars blinked down at him, the soothing sound of a bubbling brook was not too far off. Somehow he had gone from a battle ground to a quaint version of paradise.

"You're awake!" Tara's voice was unmistakably relieved as she appeared at her friend's bedside. "Thank the Maker. What were you thinking, taking on that dragon like that?"

Dorian grinned as he moved to sit up and his petite friend looped one arm around his shoulders to assist him.

"You would have done the exact same thing as I my dear. The only difference was that I happened to be closer."

"Fine," Tara huffed as she handed the tanned mage a skein of water, "Point to Pavus. I hope you're proud, between you and Fenris poor Hawke isn't going to make it back to Skyhold without a head of grey hair."

"Fenris?"

 _The body against his, shoving him free of the reach of the dragon's claws…_

"He saved me…didn't he?" The Inquisitor nodded her lips pulling thin as she cast her gaze over her shoulder. Dorian's eyes followed and his heart gave an odd leap as they settled on Hawke's form.

The massive Ferelden mage was seated beside the white haired elf who was far paler than Dorian remembered. The warrior's torso was wrapped in blood soaked bandaged as Garrett's magic flowed over him. "Kaffas…" Dorian heard himself whisper.

"He took the brunt of the blow from Corypheus' dragon's claws. They cut so deeply that in some places it looked like he might have been ripped in two. Every health potion we had and Hawke's determination is all that's keeping him alive right now."

"He could still die," the mustached mage asked horrified.

Tara's eyes fell shut as she nodded. "We cannot readily move him and other healers skilled enough to help are still half a day's ride away…if he can just hold on until they are able to reach us there might be hope." In an instant Dorian was clamoring to his feet, using his staff to help prop himself up despite Tara's insistence that he should be careful. The Tevinter mage huffed his way over to kneel down on the opposite side of Fenris' prone form.

Garrett looked up, his eyes blood shot, though he managed a small smile. "Once this is all over I _am_ going to yell at you about taking on that damn dragon," the big mage whispered in a rough voice.

"I shall suffer your wrath with all of the grace I possess…how is he doing?"

"Not well," Hawke said tightly. "I have been trying to close the wounds and I have managed to piece his major organs back together, but I cannot keep the bleeding in check enough to seal things up completely."

Dorian fingered his staff as his eyes roamed the lax face of the elf between them. "He hates blood magic above all other things yes?"

"If not just as much as the idea of being a slave again, yes I would say that is a safe bet…"

"Then it is probably best if we do not mention my using it on him." Before Garrett could protest Dorian produced a small dagger and pulled the blade across his left palm. "I promise that I will not use _his_ blood at least…but I owe him my life. I cannot sit and watch him die while I have the ability to help him, even if he would not appreciate the effort."

Garrett nodded, deftly handing one of his spare lyrium potions over to his lover before downing one himself. "I am ready."

Dorian slipped his bleeding palm over the still elf's heart and set his magic to work. His own blood poured into the other man, binding around his heart and along his wounds effectively trapping Fenris' blood within his own body. At the Tevinter mage's nodded signal Garrett removed his magic from its duty of holding the warrior's blood within him and turned it fully to reconnecting his flesh.

The healer had to move slowly careful to make certain that every nerve, every vessel was reattached perfectly. Dorian had never had the opportunity to watch his lover heal another with such careful precision…though in all honesty, it was probably not the first time he had had to heal Fenris in such a way.

"There," Garrett finally murmured as he removed the last of the bloody bandages. Fenris' skin now lay smooth and unmarred aside from his usual lyrium brands and older scars. The elf's color had also begun to return Dorian noted relieved as he too removed his magic from Fenris' body. "Thank you Mo Chuisle."

"As I said I owed him my life Amatus."

"How is he now?" Iron Bull's voice broke the spell that had been hanging over the two mages while they worked. Garrett gained his feet and moved to help Dorian up as well as he sent the Qunari a grin.

"Thanks to Dorian's help now all we have to really worry about is some major phantom pain and blood loss. But considering that he was nearly sliced in half, I'd say he is doing great right about now." The big mage looked down at his yawning lover and sighed as he gave Dorian's shoulders a squeeze. "You should be resting oh hero. I'm going to need to stay up with Fenris a bit longer however since he could still go into another bout of shock."

"You two go to bed. I set up a tent you can use. Tara is out scouting the perimeter and I can stay up with him," Bull said nodding to the elf's prone form. "Go on, that's an order," he added when Hawke looked as though he might protest.

The big mage gave a curt nod then with his arm still around Dorian turned to lead them both to bed.

Iron Bull moved down onto the ground beside the unconscious elf, tucking a blanket around the warrior's form before moving to stoke the nearby fire. After settling in the Ben Hassrath took a moment to watch Fenris' face for any signs of distress. The elf's face has a bit more color to it which was a good sign, but there was also a tightness there that had not been before.

Without a second thought the Iron Bull moves to pull the smaller warrior up into his lap. He propped Fenris' head up against his shoulder, smiling when the elf moved to snuggle closer just as he had the night he had fought with Dorian.

 _'Cuddly little thing…when he's knocked clean out,'_ Bull thought to himself with a chuckle. He did not know why he was developing such a soft spot for the big Hawke's ex, but something about the tough elf was pricking his interest.

Maybe it was the elf's own brittle disinterest, who could really say when it came to the Qunari mercenary leader. One thing was for sure, it wasn't because Fenris was a red head.

* * *

The dragon's paw swept towards the blood mage. Somewhere that seemed much further away than it really was he could hear Garrett screaming the Tevinter man's name.

He had shielded them from the blast.

No hesitation.

He was fearless and powerful in the face of such an overwhelming enemy. But his bravery had left him drained. Even at full capacity could he have jumped clear of the dragon's claws?

Fenris did not know.

Suddenly his feet were moving on their own accord. He collided with the blood mage's left side shoving him clear.

A second too late…

The warrior heaved his blade down. The tip of it lodged into the stone of the bridge, one razor sharp edge cutting deeply into the beast's palm. Its claws were longer though. Fenris felt them piercing his body even as he heard his sword snap in two. He was thrown to the ground pain erupting through him in dazzling waves.

For a moment his vision rested on the blood mage's limp form a few feet away. Then he felt arms around him, large and strong. Garrett's magic sizzling through the air around him.

The scream of the dragon…

Dizzy.

Darkness was swallowing him whole…then, perhaps much later, a prickling of magic ebbing through him, familiar and comforting. It remained with him in suspension.

Then he could feel a new magic, familiar in a different way, blood slipping into his blood, changing him, prying into him…

Fenris twisted trying to get away from the blood magic he knew was creeping through him. Fought as mightily as he could but then hands were there, large and strong, suffocating him. Holding him immobile…he was trapped within something, cocooned in a deceptively soft cage…He cried out trying to summon his markings to life.

"Dragon Slayer you need to calm down before you hurt yourself." The sound of Iron Bull's voice Fenris was just accustomed to enough that it snapped him from his panic.

As the elf panted the big Qunari held him close, reaching up a hand to stroke through the warrior's hair, telling him a steady stream of comforting things in his low voice. The white haired warrior focused on his breathing until he found it steady again, his surroundings finally clicking into sequence.

He looked down at himself and found that if he had sustained any injuries, they were gone.

"Hawke and Dorian fixed you up about an hour ago," Bull informed the elf. At the mention of the blood mage's name Fenris' eyes shot upwards to collide with the Qunari's steadfast gaze.

"Did they use blood magic on me?"

"Yes. Dorian used his own blood to keep yours from draining out of you while Garrett managed to piece you back together. You would have died otherwise without a second healer to help."

Fenris sat very still in complete disbelief that Hawke would allow blood magic to be used on him regardless of the circumstances…he felt tainted, unsure. "Pashaara venak hol," Bull muttered as he shook his great horned head.

"Shanedan, pashaara," the elf shot back fluently, momentarily shocking the mercenary leader.

"Ha! I didn't know you spoke Qunlat Dragon Slayer?"

"I know a few languages," Fenris mumbled as he cast his gaze out into the night. "You are holding me _again_."

"Mm, been thinking about that have you," the Qunari rumbled pleasantly. "You started getting a bit fussy right after Hawke left your side so I thought I'd see if I couldn't get you comfortable and sure enough, the second I picked you up you cuddled right into me and settled down again."

"Defransdim…" Fenris sighed closing his eyes briefly as he attempted to come to terms with everything that had happened. "I should have just let the beast crush _him_." Even as he said it the elf realized how little he truly meant those words. The emptiness of his own hate startled him. This was not as it had been with Denarius…

"You don't mean that," Iron Bull fired back softly, "and you _know_ it." The big Qunari knew that goading a freshly wakened man who had nearly been cut into pieces by a dragon probably was not the best thing…but it was what the elf needed apparently.

After a few minutes in silence Fenris nodded. "You are right…I find that I do not hate the mage. I am… decidedly unsettled from having blood magic used upon me…but I have never experienced it in a healing manner either. I should…" Fenris sighed loudly, "I should thank the mage."

"Yes you should, but do it in the morning. You both need rest Dragon Slayer."

"I find myself quite awake presently," Fenris admitted with a shrug.

"You want to talk?" Again the elf hunched his square shoulders in a non-committal gesture.

"I do not know what we would talk about."

"Well you could confess to me the fantasies you've been having about me?" Bull felt a secret thrill move through himself when he noted Fenris' slightly blush at his words. "Or," the big man drawled out, "I could tell you about some of the adventures me and my boys have been on."

"Tell me of your exploits then," the elf huffed out in a hasty breath.

"Okay," Iron Bull chuckled, "but in return you have to tell me about running around Kirkwall with the Hawkes."


	37. Chapter 37: Two of a Kind

**Long time no upload my dear readers, I am so sorry. Life happens as you all know :) I hope to be coming back into my writing and perhaps we can continue on this little venture! As always I hope you enjoy!**

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"Do you need a break Dragon Slayer?"

The white haired elf panted his arms trembling slightly as a ghost of pain rippled through his abdomen. "I'm fine," he growled at the Qunari before him. In response The Iron Bull rolled his eye and lowered his own weapon.

"Big Hawke said that if you start hurting that you need to stop…"

"It has been a week and a half," the elf snapped cutting the mercenary leader off even as he shifted his weight more fully off of his left side. "And by now you must realize that I _rarely_ listen to 'Big Hawke' as you call him."

"Yes. A little over a week, since you nearly died from being basically ripped in half by a _dragon_ , or arch demon, whatever the hell that damn thing is. We're done for today," Bull said firmly as he placed his axe back in its place at his back. He caught the look in Fenris' eyes as the elf sheathed his own weapon in a huff and inwardly frowned. With only a few measured strides the Quanri was at the elf's side.

"You don't need to prove to me or anyone else how strong you are or how quickly you can bounce back. That includes _yourself_ by the way."

At that Fenris let out a small snort and flashed a tooth baring grin. "When are you going to get out of my head," he asked with less venom.

"I can't help it if I'm _good_!" The Iron Bull winking was something that Fenris always found utterly ridiculous. And try as he might the elf could not suppress his smile or the soft chuckle that rumbled out of his throat.

"So _you_ say."

"Come on, my credentials are known far _and_ wide! Ask any redhead in Skyhold and they'll fill you in on what you're missing." Fenris let out a barking laugh that abruptly cut off as his left side spasmed.

Instantly Iron Bull's arm was around his waist allowing the shorter warrior to lean into him until the pain passed.

This fit left Fenris breathing hard and shallow for a few long minutes. It had never taken him so long to recover and that ate at the white haired warrior. "For-forgive me," he muttered. "You should not have to support me."

"We've been over this," Bull said in a low voice. "I know I don't _have_ to help you, support you, and spar with you or anything of the like. I _want_ to. And in doing so it does not make me view you as needy or less than." Quietly Fenris leaned more fully into the Qunari's side.

The small shift made The Iron Bull's heart tighten in an odd way. His hand at the elf's side flexed to pull him a degree closer and for once Fenris did not pull away.

Instead his green eyes fell closed and he seemed to take a moment to simply breathe. The furrows that normally lined his handsome angular face smoothed and a small contented noise slipped from his throat along with a puff of air that tickled Bull's bare side.

Since their return from the elven temple Iron Bull had found himself in the white haired warrior's presence more often than not. He didn't really know why, nor did he feel like explaining to himself much less anyone else, but something about Fenris pulled him like the moon coaxed the tide.

"Thank you," the elf said softly.

"Fenris!" Hawke's deep voice boomed out across the courtyard drawing both of the warrior's gazes. The big mage easily hopped the fence surrounding the training ring and strode to stand before the elf, his brow furrowed as he reached out a hand glowing with healing magic. "I told you to _take it easy_."

"That was easy," the white haired warrior bit back as he attempted to wave off the mage's hand, "and I do not require healing, it is merely the phantom pain which you warned me I would be having nothing more."

"Pain is pain, and I can fix it. Master healer, remember?"

"I am also equally capable of drinking an elfroot potion to assist should I actually _require_ the relief. I'm sure you have other things you should be doing right now than checking on me as if I were a child." The two men engaged in a glaring battle of wills for a long minute during which The Iron Bull watched them both with a sharp eye. The air between them began to charge and the mercenary leader realized that a bickering war was about to break out.

"The sex you two had must have been incredible."

Two sets of wide eyes turned to stare up at Bull as the mercenary casually crossed his arms over his chest. Fenris began to turn a deep shade of red then and Garrett after blinking a few times threw his head back and laughed.

"Sweet Maker Bull," the big mage rumbled shaking his head. "You know a gentleman never tells," he then added with a wink. "And if you're really alright I will take me leave then," Garrett said giving Fenris a softer look.

"Go," the elf managed to strangle out with a dismissive wave. The big mage gave both warriors one last nod before moving off. Once he was out of sight Fenris whirled to glare up at The Iron Bull who merely smiled innocently in return. "Why would you…what purpose did _that_ serve!"

"Well it kept you two from turning a moment of concern into a full blown argument," the towering Qunari said with a shrug. "And I got to see you blush, that's always fun." Fenris' glare deepened as did the heat of his face until it pushed up to coat his ears as well.

"Sometimes I dislike your company," the white haired warrior growled as he fought to find a way to control his flush.

"You love my company," Bull shot back with a chuckle. "How is your side feeling now?" Fenris let out his breath in a long whoosh as he shifted from foot to foot.

"Better now, the cramps have stopped."

"Good. Now, want to grab a bite to eat? I'm starving and if you don't feeling like being in public we can just have something brought up to my room?"

* * *

"Darling if you glare any harder at that window it's going to break."

Dorian's casual chastisement forced Garrett to relax his stance a bit. The big mage had been glued to the window of the tavern that faced the sparing ring since the moment he walked in the door. The cool eyed Tevinter had simply taken in the sight of Bull and Fenris beyond the glass and patiently waited for his lover to join him for supper. However the distasteful stare that had settled on his face now had Dorian wondering at its origin.

"Fenris is pushing himself too hard…as per usual…"

"So why does that non-revelation have you looking so disgruntled? Unless…it isn't that at all, is it?" At that the scruffy mage chuckled and slid over to place a chaste kiss at the corner of the other man's mouth.

"You know me too well," Garrett growled low in his throat as his left hand gave an affectionate squeeze high on Dorian's thigh. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to ignore you so."

"I was unconcerned my dear," the grey eyed mage retorted turning to speak with his lips grazing against Garrett's. "But I am curious. Would you care to enlighten me?"

Another squeeze to his thigh and then the big mage gained his seat. Dorian poured them each a glass of wine, a savory petit verdot to satisfy both his love of rich dry wines and his lover's sweet tooth. They clinked their glasses together and each took a long drink before Garrett cleared his throat.

"It does not sit well with me that The Iron Bull has chosen to attach himself to Fenris," the hulking Ferelden finally stated. Dorian cocked his head to the side pondering his lover's words as their meal was set before them. They thanked the waitress who beamed at them before whirling off. Once she was beyond earshot the mustached mage retorted with a simple, "Why?"

Garrett shrugged his thick shoulders, "I can't quite put it into words to be honest. I hope you do not think that it is out of jealousy because let me be clear that this is not the case!"

Dorian rolled his eyes in response then cast his lover a comforting grin. "I truly was unworried about _that_ dear. Is it because he is a spy perhaps? You worry that Fenris is ill equipped to handle such a character?"

"Partially but there is more to it…Fenris isn't ignorant nor is he some flimsy damsel. But Bull is highly… _experienced_ and seems to have a relatively one track mind when it comes to the reason behind his attentions being placed on anyone."

"Have you considered voicing your concerns to Bull?"

"I am sure _that_ would go very well," Garrett huffed with a defeated chuckle. "I should just mind my own business right?"

"There's nothing wrong in looking out for a friend, especially someone you have been so close to. I am here to listen as well if what you need is to simply voice your worries. But let us eat for now. We can figure out a way to approach The Iron Bull a little later, yes?"

"You really do know me all too well."

* * *

Fenris glared at the fork in his hand. He arm had begun to spasm again just in time for he and Bull's supper to arrive. Something he was diligently attempting to hide from the keen warrior seated on the bed a few feet away. He didn't want to admit to anyone how much pain he had been in the last few days. How the shaking had grown worse rather than better. How his paralyzing night terrors had begun to return full force in the wake of the trauma.

He was not weak.

"The chicken not to your high class standards Dragon Slayer," Bull quipped between bites of his own already half decimated meal. The elf laughed through grit teeth.

"I am just not as hungry as you it seems," he said. Though in truth he _was_ hungry the kind of hungry that made one's head throb until a hot queasiness settled in. Maybe he needed fresh air the elf thought as his pulse began to roar in his ears.

The pain in his side abruptly spiked. The room was all at once too small.

The fork clattered down onto the plate as Fenris hastily shoved it onto the chest beside him and shot to his feet.

Get out. Get out. Get out, the elf's mind screamed over and over willing his bare feet to work even as his lungs struggled within his chest.

He took one jolting step forward then the floor sharply slid beneath him. The stone was suddenly rushing up to meet him and his body refused to respond.

His fall was halted by a set of thick arms wrapping around him. Sweat poured from his brow as his body helplessly shook. He felt as if he was going to be sick.

"Fenris, talk to me. What's going on?" The elf rasped for breath, his lithe frame trembling and shuddering against the Qunari's chest.

"I don't…know…air…" Iron Bull shifted the smaller warrior around in his arms and moved him to the large bed against the wall.

"I will be right back," he said gently as he brushed the elf's white hair back out of his eyes. Swiftly he opened the nearest window and then moved to retrieve his bag of salves and potions. "Talk to me Fenris."

"I do not feel very…conversational at the present," Fenris managed to wheeze out.

"Do you want me to get Hawke," Bull asked as he moved to the edge of the bed with an elfroot potion in hand.

"No!"

"Alright, I figured as much," the mercenary leader soothed as he lifted the elf's head up to assist him in sipping on the potion. "If you go into complete shock or something though, I am going to get _someone_ weather you like it or not."

"Fair…" Fenris murmured as he shivered. The Iron Bull was beginning to recognize the white haired warrior's symptoms as being more in line with a panic attack than what he had initially thought.

"Let's get you more comfortable yes? I think I have something that could really help you out but only if you are comfortable with it?" The elf's eyes had been closed until that moment. Fenris peered up at Bull a small smile twitching his lips.

"Are you attempting to bed me again," he asked weakly.

"Considering that this is probably my best shot I wish I could say yes. But right now I'm a bit more focused on helping you feel better in a different way. Shocking I know. Though I will have to remove some of your clothing, lying in your own sweat isn't going to help anything." The elf shrugged.

"Thank you."

Bull nodded and again lifted the rim of the potion bottle to Fenris' lips. The elf managed to get down another third of the vial's contents before the Qunari set the bottle aside. Deftly he reached for the clasps of the elf's always present gauntlets removing them with startling precision. He paused once the metal claws were set aside and rubbed at the smaller man's cold fingers to coax blood back into them. Fenris groaned softly and shut his eyes as he sunk into the pillows. After the elf's breathing had become more deep and even, Bull removed Fenris' chest plate and tunic.

The usually vehemently shy elf only glared a little at that action, however once the mercenary leader moved to the waistband of his leggings he gave a sharp jolt. "Easy," Bull crooned, "I'll leave your smalls on don't worry." A faint blush colored the elf's still too pale cheeks.

"Must you?"

"Leave your smalls on? I guess not, if that's what you really want," Bull teased. Fenris rolled his eyes even as the blush crept up to the tips of his barely visible ears. "I promise that I won't take advantage of you okay? I'm pretty sure Big Hawke would sense it anyway and burst in here to barbeque my ass." That caused Fenris to let out a barking laugh.

"I doubt that."

"You must have missed him glaring at us through the window of the tavern after he'd stopped to reprimand you." Fenris lifted a brow in response and Bull nodded in kind. "Now, I'm going to take these off," he said snapping the waistband playfully. The elf swallowed hard and gave short nod of permission.

Because of the sweat it was like peeling off a second layer of skin so Bull moved slowly so as not to agitate Fenri's skin. As the leggings slid away the Qunari silently took in the elf's body. He was sexy there was no other way to describe the white haired warrior. His body was a series of hard planes and sharp edges. The swirling lyrium tattoos marking his skin only adding to the picture.

Bull's eye rested for a moment on the line hidden beneath black undergarments between Fenris' hips. Unless he was wrong, and the Qunari rarely was, Fenris was a large elf by many standards.

The white haired warrior's head was still swimming slightly, the sick feeling in his stomach riveting him to the bed, but watching as the mercenary leader ogled him made something new stir to life within him. He liked The Iron Bull, there was no denying that, and yes he found the giant warrior to be attractive as did most. But this was different than the casual teasing they had been engaged in.

Bull then set the leggings aside and turned to his bag of medical supplies. He removed an amber bottle of liquid and shifted Fenris over slightly so that he could stretch his damaged leg out as he sat at the elf's side. He popped the top off of the bottle and instantly the scent of mint, lavender and alcohol permeated the air.

The elf's nose wrinkled as the warrior at his side poured a generous portion of the liquid into the palm of his hand. "I did not realize that all Qunari used tinctures," Fenris said as Bull rubbed his hands together before beginning to rub the elf's torso.

"They don't," Bull retorted. "I found this recipe on a corpse during my time in Seheron." The Qunari said nothing but noted that Fenris had completely tensed at the mention of the damned battleground.

"Did you serve there," Fenris asked after a long silence had passed between them. Bull grunted and nodded as he moved to more deeply massage the elf's left side.

"I did. Most people could only handle being there a couple years at most and that's if they didn't get killed. I was there for eight."

"Too long," the elf breathed his voice hitching as a muscle spasmed beneath Bull's thick fingers.

"Too long," the Qunari echoed as he gentled his touch to re-relax the muscle wrapping down the elf's side.

"Is that where your leg became injured?"

"If I tell you, will you tell me how you got these," Bull asked as he poked one of the looping tendrils of lyrium that trailed over Fenris' chest.

For a moment the elf was silent then to the Qunari's surprise he moved a hand to settle on the edge of the brace hidden beneath the mercenary leader's pants. "I know what it is to have wounds that do not heal. You do not need to tell me of it."

The elf's words clanged through The Iron Bull in a way he had not anticipated. It was an unexpectedly sweet and earnest gesture. "As for my markings," Fenris continued, "I am sure that you already know of their origins. Or you would be a poor spy indeed."

"I had heard tales," Bull relented quietly. "An elf that can rip the hearts of his enemies from their chests with the flick of his wrist is at the least worth investigating after all. I know that you were a slave to a high ranking magister, how else would someone have the resources to give you such markings? I know that you were involved with the Champion of Kirkwall, however that happened, since I also know that you resist flirtation like most people resist death."

Iron Bull tenderly shifted Fenris over to lie on his stomach and began rubbing over the elf's knotted back. He worked over the sore flesh there for a long while pleased to note that the color was returning to the elf's body and the shaking had subsided. He thought that Fenris had perhaps fallen asleep the warrior was so still and silent.

Unable to help himself any longer Bull began to shift his touches from entirely medical to explorative. He enjoyed the elf's body and was currently thrilled to be tracing over the different slabs of tight muscle. The elf let out a contented sigh and shifted his hips slightly causing Bull to smile.

"Hawke was the first willing partner I had ever had…the only willing partner I have ever had," Fenris suddenly blurted out.


	38. Chapter 38: Different

Instantly the elf regretted his outburst. He wasn't even sure why he had said that to The Iron Bull.

The Qunari _might_ have cared if he was an immortal red head raised by dragons with an unyielding kink for horn sporting murder machines, but not about his lack of willing sexual experience.

Perhaps it could most easily be explained as old habits seemed to die hard. Fenris was more than enjoying having Bull's hands on him. The sick feeling that held him hostage only a few minutes ago had entirely dissipated and in its absence arousal had begun to flourish. But no matter how badly he physically wanted Bull at that precise moment, he was still a former slave who had been used in many ways, the damage from which still lingered in the far reaches of his subconscious.

Part of him wanted the mercenary leader to never stop touching him. At the moment the distraction was wonderful. Being wanted was exquisite in the wake of losing Hawke. Another part wanted more, and yet another was already shying away.

Bull's fingers dug beneath Fenris' chest and scrapped lightly along his ribs causing the elf to hiss a breath and abandon his scrambled train of thought. "That's okay Fenris," Bull rumbled his mouth much closer to the white haired warrior's ear than Fenris had expected. The feeling of the larger warrior's hot breath coaxing over his auricle caused the tanned elf's skin to prickle. "You don't have to explain anything to me unless you really want to. How are you feeling?"

Fenris nodded then breathed out, "Better," in response though he kept his face buried in the pillows beneath him.

"Do you want me to keep going," Bull asked. He could smell the change in Fenris and it was turning him on but he wanted to be very mindful of all of the factors at play regarding the white haired elf. He knew that if he were careful he could be very good for the white haired warrior. He had thought so since they had become acquainted.

"In what way do you mean?" The elf's tone of voice let The Iron Bull know that Fenris was presently imagining them together and damn if that wasn't making things even harder on him.

"Whatever way you want, though I get the sense that you want me to decide that?"

Fenris swallowed hard then nodded, "In a fashion…I…I am not good at this." Strong fingers carved a line down to squeeze the top edge of the elf's hip bones causing him to buck down into the bed. The elf could feel the heat of Bull's chest as the larger warrior leaned down over him. Lips pressed into the back of his neck as the Qunari spoke slowly.

"I'm not sure you truly realize what you'll be getting into with me. There will be rules," Bull growled firmly.

Fenris stared up at him eyes bright; his pupils blown wide until they swallowed all but a thin ring of green. Those eyes narrowed and fixed Bull with a challenging glare. "Name them."

The elf's tone was obstinate as always and it made the mercenary leader smile widely.

"Rule one, this only goes as far and as fast as _you_ _want_ it to go. If you want me to stop say katoh, if I hear you say that no matter what we are doing I _will_ stop immediately no questions asked. Rule two; I want you to relax Fenris. It could turn out to be only a backrub after all, could be more. Just let it happen, don't worry about what you are doing, I will take care of you got it?" Those strong fingers were now kneading the bunched muscles at the small of Fenris' back as he nodded heat building between his thighs.

"Rule three; I want you to be reactive. I want you to be loud. If I touch you in a way you like, let me know it. No one is going to interrupt or hear you. This is a safe space. Now…if this is what you want, let me hear you say the watchword." In one smooth movement Bull flipped the elf over onto his back startling a gasp from between his lips. The Qunari held Fenris' gaze, waiting for the elf to say the word as he smoothly divulged himself of his harness letting it fall to the floor with a loud thud.

"Katoh." Fenris breathed as Iron Bull's thumb came to rest just below his lower lip.

"Perfect," the big Qunari rumbled as he slid the digit up slowly, coaxing the elf's lips apart before moving in to slide against his tongue. It was so alien to Fenris, the coarse texture of the other man's calloused skin inside his mouth. The mercenary leader began rubbing his thumb in and out between the seam of the white haired warrior's lips as his other hand began lightly trailing across the goose flesh of his chest. Fingers deftly closed around one of Fenris' darkened nipples tugging at it and causing the elf to moan before going back to tracing light patterns.

The hand at Fenris' mouth moved away to brace the big warrior up as he leaned down to softly kiss the elf. The white haired warrior sighed into the action and Bull took full advantage. He wove his tongue into the elf's mouth relishing the taste of the smaller man. They kissed like this for a few long minutes, Bull keeping up the same tempo of his caresses and exploration until the elf melted into the interlude.

He could have just done this, just kissed the now pliant elf for hours and been satisfied Bull thought to himself as Fenris' hands wove up to grip at his shoulders. The elf whined low in his throat as the mercenary leader moved his other hand to his hip. He stroked his thumb down along the ridge of the other warrior's hipbone just to the side of the elf's swollen member which twitched in anticipation of a touch that never came.

Fenris' whine grew keen as Bull then trailed his fingertips up the elf's inner thigh, pulling away just before he would have grazed the other man's clothed balls. "I like how excited I'm making you right now," the Qunari rumbled against the elf's wet lips. "You're being so good for me, letting me lead you to pleasure. Thank you for giving in to me, I know that it isn't the easiest thing for you to do."

The elf grunted in response but never got to say a word before the larger warrior's lips captured his once more.

In truth it was all too easy for Fenris to give in to Bull.

Suddenly fingers curled around the elf's slim hips and pulled him up so that he was straddling the mercenary leader's thick waist. An unmistakable bulge pressed up beneath Fenris throbbing against the cleft of his ass. Again Bull's thumb pressed into the elf's mouth, as his own mouth found the sensitive juncture behind the white haired warrior's ear. The Qunari began to grind his hips up into the smaller man as his thumb moved in tandem in and out of the elf's mouth, all the while he licked and nibbled at the other man's neck and earlobe.

The onslaught of sensations made Fenris shudder helplessly. His own erection trapped between him and Bull's flexing stomach. His hands still gripped the Qunari's muscled shoulders, tightening and releasing in a sporadic rhythm.

Teeth abruptly sunk down into the junction of Fenris' shoulder and neck and the elf gasped loudly, one hand flailing up to find purchase at the base of one of Bull's horns. "Vashedan," the white haired warrior hissed out as the cheeky Qunari shifted to suck over the bite.

"I am going to make you swear in every language you know," Bull promised as he licked up to nibble on the outer edge of Fenris' ear. His hands moved down, one locking beneath the elf's left leg while the other ghosted over his taunt rear. In one smooth motion the white haired warrior found himself back on his back, one leg bent so that his knee rested upon his chest. The hand upon his ass squeezed and lifted the elf's hips upwards to meet with the unyielding ridge still contained within Bull's pants.

Fenris began to squirm as the Qunari's hard cock massaged over his balls and between the cheeks of his ass. Lips collided with his again. The Iron Bull stole his breath as he ravaged the elf's mouth. Sucking on Fenris' tongue and growling loudly as he ground into the smaller man. "I can't wait to get these off of you," Bull said as he snapped the waistband of the elf's underwear. Then the Qunari grinned, and Fenris shuddered as he caught the predatory glint in the other man's eye. "Put your arms above your head."

For a split second the white haired warrior paused, some old wound causing him to flinch as reality threatened to pour into the moment. "Katoh," Bull said in a low voice as his gaze gentled. "That's all you have to say."

The Qunari waited a moment to give the elf the chance to stop everything but he did not. Instead Bull watched pleased as the tanned warrior slowly lifted his arms until they lay over his head against the covers. The mercenary leader grinned and placed a relatively chaste kiss upon Fenris' lips as he lifted a length of rope from between the head of the mattress and the bed's headboard.

He made sure that the elf could see it as he carefully measured the length in his hands. He then moved to begin twisting the rope around Fenris' forearms and wrists. "You look gorgeous like this," he murmured. "I will start simple, if you don't like it we never have to even have rope in the same room again. But if you do like it I have many different ties I would like to use on you."

"Do you often restrain your paramours?"

"No. I do not use rope to restrain usually. That's not why I am using it on you either. It can be a freeing thing. Some people really enjoy the strain they can place on the bindings as opposed to focusing on the other physical attributes of sex. Some even like the pain of twisting the rope into their flesh. I'm happy you're willing to try it…even though we both know that you could just phase through them if you wanted to."

And it was true Fenris realized.

In the past a restraint was a restraint. A barrier between him and freedom. But here with Bull there was no magic to create unbreakable bonds or to suppress his powers.

He flexed his hands into fists and pulled at the rope. It was soft and had a comfortable amount of give to it. Fenris continued to test the bindings until he felt the bite of them against his flesh and the sharper burn where they pressed against his markings. The sensation itself was not completely unpleasant. A dark memory flicked to life in the elf's mind, a different time, different fetters…

"Hey." Green eyes snapped to meet Bull's calm searching gaze. "I don't know if I mentioned this to you beforehand but I'm a _very_ vain person. I want your full attention on me and how _I am_ making your feel right now okay?" The Qunari's words made Fenris let out a self-conscious huff of a laugh.

The elf opened and shut his mouth several times before blurting out, "I sometimes…my past…" before falling silent once more.

"Fenris, you aren't the only person in the world with a past that haunts them even into the bedroom. I feel confident that I can help you learn how to keep some of that stuff pushed aside in this kind of situation. Help you gain some more freedom so to speak."

"Won't that be _work_ for you? It has been my understanding that both parties are generally supposed to enjoy the encounter in these situations."

"What makes you think I'm not currently enjoying myself," Bull shifted his hips to grind his still throbbing erection against the smaller man. "I haven't been idly flirting with you for weeks now you know. I was trained as Ben- Hassrath as I keep telling you! I already knew or had at least guessed at your hang ups. I _want_ you."

The big Qunari shifted down so that he was braced up on his elbows, lying out on his stomach between Fenris' legs. He lowered his head and began to kiss and suck at the elf's chest. He teased over the smaller man's nipples, grinning as the white haired warrior began to relax once more.

The Iron Bull then began to kiss down the warrior's taunt torso. Teeth scraping along abdominal muscles as meaty fingers clenched around jutting hip bones. Fenris moaned loudly when the other warrior finally reached the waistband of his underwear and Bull took that as his cue.

He slid Fenris' final garment off and tossed it to the floor. His eye gleamed as he took a moment to simply drink in the sight of the lean warrior's fully naked body.

"Must you stare," the tan elf asked a slight flush touching his cheekbones.

"Everyone stares at you, don't pretend you don't notice," Bull chided as his fingers brushed lightly just beside the base of the other man's cock. Fenris' eyes briefly fell shut and he dragged in a labored breath.

"They stare at the markings," he hissed between touches.

"You are wrong. Some stare at your markings, but most stare because you're a gorgeous man." Bull hummed low in his throat as he grazed the backs of his fingers up along the underside of Fenris' erection. "And they don't even know the half of it!" The mercenary leader turned his fingers over to rub the pads of his first two digits over the swollen head of the elf's cock and then moved to stroke the smaller man's length in his firm grasp.

Soon enough Fenris' head was thrown back as he moaned in pleasure. His tanned flesh began to be covered by a thin sheen of sweat. The muscles of his thighs flexed and shuddered as he dug his heels into the mattress. His wrists twisted in the rope and Bull was pleased to note that he was doing so consciously, testing to see if he found pleasure from the bindings.

A large drop of precum had begun to slide down the tip of Fenris' cock and Bull dipped his head to capture it with his tongue. At that the elf's hips snapped up sharply as he let out a strangled shout. Bull felt fresh excitement rip through him so he repeated the motion while still keeping up the rhythm of his hand causing the elf to writhe beneath him.

"Bull," Fenris bit out.

The Qunari's attentions were driving the white haired warrior to the brink and they'd only just begun.

Fenris fought the rising need to climax. Every fiber of his body tensed as he resisted the sensations coursing through his body. His balls clenched as the mercenary leader swallowed his entire length coaxing along his flesh with a thick tongue.

Bull hummed low in his throat and pulled back for a moment. "I've already told you that you don't have to fight the pleasure," he rumbled as he grinned down at the elf. He held the panting warrior's gaze as he moved to coat the index finger of his right hand with saliva. "But…I like that you're makings me work for it."

With a tender touch The Iron Bull lifted one of Fenris' legs up to perch over his muscular shoulder as he settled down onto his left elbow. He kissed the inside of the elf's thigh, watching him closely as he began to probe the other man's opening with his slicked finger. He bent forward to take the elf's erection back into his mouth as he simultaneously pressed his digit inside the other man's opening.

Almost instantly the well versed mercenary found Fenris' sweet spot and curled his finger against it. Fenris let out a choked shout as he bucked his hips up into Bull's mouth. The Qunari had no trouble swallowing the smaller warrior's length as deeply as he needed to. He hummed in delight as the white haired warrior's hips continuously snapped upward and his lyrium markings began to flare to life.

After Bull found his first finger sliding without much resistance he wetted a second and added it. He repeated the ritual a few minutes later to add a third finger.

"Iron Bull," Fenris bit out. "I'm…I…"

The mercenary leader pulled his head back then letting the other man's throbbing member fall free from his mouth and onto his stomach with a wet slap. He continued to press his fingers against Fenris' prostate as he watched the elf's face. The tanned man's eyes were pressed tightly shut, his lips parted as he panted for breath. He was terribly close Bull noted with a smile.

The big Qunari abruptly removed all of his fingers and allowed Fenris' leg to fall back to the mattress. The elf's green eyes opened, his chest still rising and falling rapidly as he fixed Bull with a questioning look. The mercenary leader cast him another predatory grin in return and reached for the belt of his own pants. With on smooth pull he released his own erection and gave it a few strokes, pleased to note the way that Fenris licked his lips as he stared at the sizable expanse of flesh.

"You open up so beautifully for me. I am very excited to watch your face as I make you come for me. You're going to feel incredible," Bull growled as he kicked his pants away and moved his other hand to begin stroking the elf's erection as well.

Fenris groaned and tried to regain control of his breathing. His anticipation of Bull pressing his member into him was daunting and a small glint of fear began to dull the edge of his arousal.

Bull let his hands drop away and Fenris shut his eyes hoping that it would help him maintain his composure. He felt the Qunari's weight shift and then resettle but not beneath him as he had anticipated. A steady set of warm fingers settled beneath Fenris' jaw startling him into opening his eyes.

He was surprised to find Bull straddling his hips, smiling down at him something unspoken dancing in the depths of his eye. "You're going to want to watch," the mercenary leader instructed as he reached back to position the head of Fenris' cock against his own entrance.

The elf let out a small whimper as the fear bled from his body and Iron Bull sank down onto his sensitive member. Bull was impressively nimble for one so large and rode Fenris with measured movements. He stroked himself and played with the moaning elf's nipples relishing the looks of shocked pleasure that passed over Fenris' face.

"Fenris when you get close, ask me to please make you cum," Bull instructed to which the elf moaned loudly. It was the longest sexual interlude he had ever willingly participated in and Fenris' had become partially mindless in the midst of the onslaught of sensations. He heard Bull's request and shortly after the Qunari reinserted his fingers into Fenris' entrance, the word please became a litany upon the lyrium branded man's lips. Bull felt the elf's balls clench hard and leaned forward to catch the smaller man's throaty shouts of climax in a deep kiss.

The white haired warrior's heels dug into the bed as he ground his hips up into The Iron Bull, his hands phasing free of the ropes and coming to an abrupt rest upon Bull's horns holding him in place as they kissed. He shuddered the final moments of his release and then collapsed limp boned back onto the bed.

When he came back into the moment he caught Bull's eye as the Qunari grinned down at him. Fenris opened his mouth to speak but instead a bubble of laughter escaped him causing the larger man's lips to stretch into a wide toothy smile. "You look absolutely wrung out," the mercenary leader informed him as he moved to shove the rope off the bed and fluff the pillows back into place. He then pulled the limp elf up onto his chest and began stroking a hand over Fenris' back.

The white haired warrior hummed his pleasure and nodded against Iron Bull's chest. "That was…thank you," the elf muttered.

Bull leaned forward to place a brief kiss against the elf's sweaty brow. "We aren't done yet," he whispered. Fenris managed to nod his head once more before he succumb to his newfound weariness and fell into a deep sleep on top of the still smiling Iron Bull.


	39. Chapter 39: Breaking Ice

**Hello lovely readers! Good vibes your way! Please review, favorite, laugh, snort, roll your eyes and just hopefully enjoy :) Thank you for your support!**

* * *

Fenris could feel the heat of the sun dancing upon his face and the warmth of the body beneath him seeping into his bones. He inhaled deeply and hummed contentedly as the scent of The Iron Bull filled his nostrils.

A rough hand slid down the elf's naked side causing him to arch into the sudden touch like a cat. Thin lips stretched into a smile just behind Fenris' left ear as Bull's deep voice rumbled, "Good morning."

"Good morning," the white haired warrior muttered back as the mercenary leader's other hand slid up to rest over the center of his chest.

"You slept like a rock," the Qunari quipped as the hand on the elf's side made another pass. This time thick fingers slid down to wrap gently around Fenris' flaccid cock. That contact woke the elf up fully. "I'm glad I could help you relax."

Fenris gasped as blood flooded to his loins. Bull nibbled at the lobe of his left ear causing a shiver to course down the elf's spine as he began to lightly pump the hardening flesh in his other hand. The big Qunari rolled his own hips up enjoying the soft surprised noise that escaped his lover's lips as his already hard cock rubbed up between the smaller man's legs.

"You already want more," Fenris asked as his own hands wound to grip the Qunari's muscular arms.

"Yeah," Bull rumbled as he hooked his legs inside of elves' and used his knees to spread his lover's legs further apart. "I do," he said as he began to thrust up between Fenris' cheeks while he simultaneously increased the speed of his hand around the white haired warrior's cock. "I like watching you cum. A guy could get addicted to that face of yours you know. Your lips all swollen, hanging apart as you gasp for breath when you're about to lose it, the way your cheeks turn just a little pink and you screw your eyes shut."

Fenris groaned as Bull finished his description by biting down softly on the back of his neck. "Get up here," the Qunari then growled. Powerful arms lifted the elf easily up into a sitting position then flipped him forward so that he lay stomach to stomach facing the bigger warrior's throbbing member.

The white haired man let out a choked shout as one of Bull's arms circled his waist and drew him back so that the mercenary leader could lick at the elf's cock, balls and tight entrance. Slicked fingers soon dipped into Fenris' heat striking masterfully against the sweet spot inside of him as Bull's thick tongue moved to lave over the elf's twitching length.

The lyrium burned man's small noises of pleasure sent hot bursts of air over the engorged head of Bull's cock making his flesh jolt and writhe as he fucked the elf with his hands and mouth. Fenris' gaze focused on the long cock just an inch away from his own lips. He had only ever attempted to give Hawke oral once and it had simply drawn too many memories from the bowels of his mind. Denarius had thoroughly enjoyed using Fenris' mouth for his own pleasure.

The Iron Bull used his thumbs to spread open the elf's hole then began sucking and delving into the opening with complete abandon. The sensation was so unique to him that Fenris let out a fierce shout of pleasure.

What was it like to be so completely free in this kind of situation?

Green eyes moved again to the pulsing member before him as Bull continued to plunder him. On a whim Fenris reached out and wrapped a hand loosely around the base of the other man's heavy cock.

A guttural moan erupted from the mercenary leader who buried his face deeper into the elf's ass in response. "Oh yes," the Qunari rumbled as he paused to place several sloppy kisses to the other man's entrance. "Please Fenris."

Fresh heat shot through the white haired warrior like lightening and it made him bold. He tightened his grip, relishing in the rumbling groans that shook through the body beneath him as he gave Bull's flesh a few cursory strokes. A thick white dot of precum pooled in the large slit at the top of the Qunari's cock. Without thinking Fenris wrapped his lips around the other man's swollen head and lapped up the fluid trapped there.

The Iron Bull let out a surprised cry. His hands clenched hard into the flesh of Fenris' hips until it was almost painful but then the mercenary leader reclaimed himself from the moment and gentled his touch once more. "Sorry," the large warrior heaved as he moved his hands to smooth the skin of Fenris' back. "I wasn't expecting that. I ahhhh!" The Qunari's words became a feral growl as the emboldened elf sucked the head of his cock deeply into his mouth. The white haired warrior continued to slip his tongue along the creamy seam at the tip of Bull's erection as he began to bob his head up and down.

"Fuck that's nice," the one eyed warrior groaned a moment before he resumed his exploration of Fenris' entrance.

The lovers settled into a steady rhythm that coaxed their mutual arousal into a firestorm of pure lust until both were near the brink. Fenris gasped something but the words were unintelligible due to the fact that he never removed Bull's cock from his mouth as he attempted to speak. For his part, the Qunari was all too happy to simply ride the waves of pleasure through to the end. Both men were so completely invested in the sensations of the moment that neither of them heard the footsteps approaching.

The door across the room opened abruptly, startling Fenris' who accidently deep throated Bull, who in turn chose that exact moment to climax, loudly. Varric stood wide eyed in the doorway, whatever he had been about to say upon entering the room long forgotten. Then as swiftly as he had appeared the dwarf clamped his mouth shut and exited the room. "Andraste's holy shit-tits, I'm sorry," he called back from the other side of the door.

Iron Bull let out another much too loud sound of contentment as Fenris coughed and attempted to wriggle free of the Qunari's steely grip. "See anything you like," the mercenary leader then called out with a laugh.

"I saw a few things I would _like to forget_ …oh well, at least now I'll know what to write when I get to this part of the Inquisitor's Tale. Anyway I just came to let you know Tiny, Cullen was looking for you. We've got a job in the Emerald Graves coming our way. Probably heading out some time today…I'm going to go drink now."

"See you later," Bull called back listening to the dwarf's fading footfalls as his attention once again turned fully to the elf currently squirming in his grasp. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I…I do not know, but I should like to be dressed after that," Fenris stammered out. His heart had lodged in his throat as embarrassment took hold of the already shy elf. Varric would surely say something to Garrett…everyone would know…and Varric did not just know but had _witnessed_ it!

"Hey Dragon Slayer it's okay. Don't be all twisted up about Varric walking in on us…I mean, you can be if you really want to be but I wouldn't recommend it."

"He saw," the white haired warrior cried out. "You said no one would bother us…no one would know!" At that statement Bull's eye narrowed.

"You won't have to worry about anyone finding out. Even though I don't think Varric would say a word about it I will talk to him later if that will make you feel better okay?"

Before Fenris could answer he found himself tumbling down onto the bed as Bull vacated its surface. The mercenary leader deftly yanked on his pants and harness and moved to the door before the elf could even untangle from the covers. "And don't worry, moving forward I shall make certain that you and I remain a complete secret." That said the massive Qunari ducked out of the room slamming the door shut in his wake and leaving Fenris to sit in quiet confusion.

What had just happened?

* * *

"I'll miss you."

"You always say that," Tara whispered softly, giggling as the Commander kissed her nose before letting his forehead rest against hers.

"And I always do." Cullen grinned and pulled back, touching a hand to the side of the softly smiling Inquisitor's face. "But you shall be back in only a weeks-time, I am sure that you and your crew shan't get into _too_ much trouble in that short of a window."

"Don't underestimate me! I'm taking Dorian, Marian, Varric and the Chargers for this little jaunt. We will stir up plenty of trouble I'm sure."

"Then just be safe while you are doing it," the tall blonde chuckled as he leaned in to place a lingering kiss to Tara's lips. "I hope that by the time you return Leliana's spies and my soldiers will have located where Corypheus is hiding. If we can mobilize a final strike before he regroups we could end this whole thing!"

"I'll leave you to it then my capable Lion." Tara lifted up onto the tips of her toes and placed one last kiss upon her lover's cheek. Then she stepped back and slid her leather bracers and archer's glove into place. "In a week darling," the petite rogue winked as she turned to walk out into the courtyard.

Varric moved his pony up alongside where The Iron Bull sat upon his own sturdy mount watching the Inquisitor descend the stone steps from the Keep. "Sorry again Tiny…I was lost in my own head and didn't even think about knocking."

"Don't mention it," the big Qunari rumbled. "Like, seriously. Fenris wasn't exactly expecting anyone to find out about what we were doing when you walked in so…"

"Not a problem but…really? You're hiding it?"

"I don't hide anything unless I'm asked to," Bull quipped with a frown.

"Huh…" Varric huffed then fell silent as Tara explained their objective to the gathered group. They were aiming to keep solidifying their hold in the Emerald Graves. This particular patrol would be tasked with assisting a woman named Clara in seeking out proof of the noble lineage of the leader of the Orlesian refugees, Fairbanks. It was a simple enough task, though they had a lot of terrain to cover, and the group set out at a modest pace with their hopes held high.

Garrett watched the band depart shooting Dorian a wink and a kiss when the Altus cast one final glance back over his shoulder before vanishing around the bend in the road. The big mage then sighed and made his way back into the courtyard of Skyhold. He supposed that he should seek out Cullen and see if the Commander had anything that he required assistance with.

Just as the big Ferelden reached the main doorway of the Keep a distinctly Orlesian voice called out, "Champion." Garrett paused his stride and shifted to find Leliana standing off to the side of the doorway in the shadows. "May I have a word with you?"

"Of course," the black haired mage retorted with a smile as he stepped over to stand before the red headed Bard. "What do you wish to speak about?"

"It is in regards to Dorian," Leliana stated bluntly then lifted a hand to prompt Garrett to remain quiet as she continued. "It is nothing urgently dangerous I promise. If it were I would have moved to action myself by now, however it is a rather _personal_ thing. I thought that you might know how to handle it better than I."

"I might…but that all depends on what you are talking about?"

"An agent of mine was recently in Orlias. While there she overheard an interesting conversation between two merchants. Apparently, the one name Ponchard holds a most curious and valuable amulet of Tevinter origin. If what he bragged was true it is the amulet that signifies Dorian's birthright. The wrong hands get a hold of it and it could open some serious doors back in Tevinter…not to mention, that selling one's birthright is…not what I would consider the best course of action politically or socially for a man of Dorian's status."

"Can you get me passage to Orlais?"

"Of course, you could leave this evening if you wished to. Shall any of my agents accompany you?"

"I shall go tonight and no, thank you though. I feel that the fewer people who know of this the better. Does Dorian even know that you know of this?"

"He does not. I had not had the chance to choose a way to speak with him about it. I had originally thought to bring it to the Inquisitor's attention, but I think that considering your relationship that perhaps I should have come to you as soon as I learned of it."

"I appreciate the thought you have put into this matter Leliana. Thank you. I shall meet you at the stables tonight."

* * *

Why did he always have to say the wrong things?

Fenris had realized his mistake a few hours after Bull had ridden out with the others. Now his own words and the look that had passed through the Qunari's eye sat on his shoulders like a rock. He had not meant what he had said as it had sounded…but then what had he meant? He did not even truly know. Everything in that moment had happened so quickly.

The white haired man sighed heavily wishing he had someone to talk to. He was so deeply wrapped in his own thoughts that as he rounded the corner of the main stable building he slammed directly into someone else. The elf bounced back off of the barrel chested silhouette and would have fallen back had the thick arm not shot out to wrap around his waist.

"Maker's breath Fenris, what are you doing out here?"

For a brief moment the heat of Garrett Hawke's body radiated into him, and then the big mage stepped back and released his hold.

"One might ask you the same," the elf shot back as he straightened his armor. Sharp eyes slid to the pack tossed over Garrett's left shoulder and one black brow lifted as Fenris asked, "Going somewhere?"

"That's none of your business, but yes, I am leaving the country tonight."

"The country, alone?"

"Yes, now if you will excuse me…" Garrett moved to step around the warrior who in turn stepped directly into the big mage's path. "Fenris move along this doesn't concern you."

"If you think I'm going to allow you to wander outside the boarders of Ferelden power on your own without a good explanation you are very wrong." The two men began to size one another up just as they always had when suddenly Cole's voice broke the night air.

"Worried. Always worried, too head strong. Knows that you are strong, but wants to help anyway."

"Fasta vass," Fenris swore loudly as he lurched away from the strange young man.

"Easy Fenris it's just Cole…Cole thank you for your insight but…"

"He could never forgive himself if you got hurt! Has already seen you hurt so much, made you hurt too much. Please don't hurt each other anymore. Help instead?" Before either man could speak again the odd blonde vanished without a trace leaving an odd silence hanging between them. Garrett moved his gaze to find Fenris already looking stalwartly back at him. The big mage cleared his throat as memories of their past _together_ crashed over him.

Once he had trusted Fenris above all others…and really a large portion of that had not gone away.

"I would go with you if you would have me," the elf said softly. "I merely do not like to see you traveling alone in these times."

"It involves Dorian," Garrett said and was surprised when the white haired man merely shrugged.

"And I need to speak to someone I trust about a personal matter. We would be good company on the voyage…I even promise to say only marginally mean things about your...mage."

That startled a laugh from the hulking Ferelden who after a thoughtful pause laid a hand upon his former lover's shoulder. "Gather your things quickly then. I can't promise I'll give any good advice though."


	40. Chapter 40: Small Spaces and Big Mouths

**Andraste's frilly white knickers Chapter 40 dear readers! Thank you for reading my fic! Please enjoy this latest chapter. I was sort of hoping that chapter 40 would fall on some pivotal action packed point in this story but nope haha! As always good vibes to you all.**

* * *

Perhaps he had reacted too hastily.

Bull's eye was fixated on the fire crackling softly before him but his mind was stuck on a certain white haired elf. He shouldn't have left angrily. That kind of emotion was the _last_ thing that Fenris needed to associate with him or rather sex _with_ him. He still wasn't even sure why the agile warrior's words had sparked such a reaction from him in the first place.

Granted he had been feeling particularly…protective of the elf, especially after returning from the battle at the elven temple. But someone had to be right?

"Vashedan," he muttered to himself as he cracked his thick neck. He hoped he hadn't ruined things…whatever said _thing_ actually was.

"I'm shocked…you have neither a weapon nor a drink in your hand! Are you ill The Iron Bull?" The Qunari shifted his gaze to throw the haughty Tevinter mage a sly grin.

"Well you're no healer, but if I tell you where it hurts do you think you could try kissing it better anyway?" At that the mustached mage blanched then rolled his eyes as he sank down dramatically onto a nearby stump.

"I nearly swooned from the magnitude of how _terrible_ , no, absolutely _dreadful_ that attempt at flirtation was!"

"Hey at least I'm still trying. You stopped flirting back the moment Big Hawke got you in his talons. Congratulations by the way," Bull then added in a more reverent tone. "Krem might have let it slip that you two are getting married."

"Damn him! If he keeps 'letting it slip' we'll have to change our seating chart for the venue!" The mercenary leader laughed then the two fell into a companionable silence for a few long minutes. Bull allowed his eye to linger over the other man's form picking up on several cues. The way the grey eyed mage was leaned forward, his elbows braced upon his knees, shoulders square with where the mercenary leader sat. How he continuously rewetted his lips with his tongue as his eyes slid from the fire back onto Bull.

"Did you…have something you wanted to say to me Dorian?"

The mage sighed heavily.

"Yes…and no. It's none of my business really, it's not anyone's business…but…Garrett has taken notice of how close you and Fenris are getting. He has been attempting to think of a way to talk to you about his former man but hasn't quite sorted it out. I figured that this little journey might be an opportune time for me to play the middle man. Less emotion over the whole thing that way you know?"

"I had taken note that Big Hawke always seemed rather keen about when Fenris and I were together. You can tell Hawke that I promise not to snap the elf in half during any naked acrobatics if they occur. That should put him at ease."

"It's not so much _that_ though thank you very much for the image I must now spend the rest of my days suppressing. It has more to do with the fact that Fenris is a harsh and difficult individual. Garrett admits that perhaps during _their_ relationship he was much too lenient in his approach, but he doesn't want Fenris feeling threatened or used. And before you take that the wrong way, no, we don't think you would do that to the man intentionally. But Fenris is…"

"Volatile," the Quanri supplied readily. "He's a volatile man and he needs someone who can handle that in the right way." Dorian nodded shooting Bull a grateful smile.

"Exactly, and I'm not telling you this as if this will be a revelation to you. I just know that Garrett would feel much better if he knew someone had said it out loud to you."

"Has he told you a lot about Fenris then? I figured he would have been a topic of conversation that you two would avoid at all costs."

"Ignoring something makes it worse, gives it power. Challenging it in the open is a much better strategy for us," the Tevinter stated as a fond smile warmed his eyes. "We speak plainly with one another about everything. Fenris has been no different."

"I'd offer to also speak plainly about that lanky elf as well but as it is, there is no _us_ and never will be in any capacity."

"…Krem had mentioned in passing that he was in your chambers all night and that the next morning you were nowhere to be seen for breakfast or training. He alluded that you might have finally _worn down the man's defenses_ so to speak…Listen, Iron Bull, we are friends you and I, at least that has been my assumption. I'm not about to go shouting it to the stars if you and Fenris are involved, but I did notice that you joined our group in a bit of a mood. A mood that would have followed the _alleged_ night with said elf…I guess what I mean is that if you'd like to talk I am here."

Bull weighed his options for a moment before shrugging his thick shoulders. "What do you know about Fenris?"

* * *

Perhaps it had been rash to offer his company to Hawke, Fenris thought as he eyed the big mage currently seated across from him. The two men had not spoken during the journey to the docks. Accompanied by Leliana they had made good time and boarded a vessel upon the Spy Master's bidding. A crewman had then led them down to a modest quarters complete with two small beds seated against opposite walls. A thick bowl of stew and a tankard of grog now sat in each man's lap as they began their voyage.

More silence.

Companionable enough but still heavy to the steadily uneasy growing elf. What had his big mouth had gotten him into this time?

How in the Void was he supposed to talk to Hawke about anything involving the mercenary leader? True enough the big mage had a new lover of his own…but what if he thought Fenris was trying to make him jealous?

"So," the giant Ferelden abruptly said setting aside his empty bowl, "what did you want to talk about?"

"Forget I mentioned anything," the elf retorted swiftly. "It was a foolish notion. I am afraid that I may have…I did not think things through before telling you I wanted to talk. Please, let it be Hawke?" The raven haired man shot the white haired warrior a puzzled look.

"I don't know what it is you had wanted to speak about, but I get the distinct impression that you think I'm going to have an adverse reaction to whatever it is." Garrett paused his eyes sharply seeking Fenris' face for answers. "If this is about _us_ or Dorian then yes you would be correct in that assumption," the mage began slowly, "but…I don't think it has to do with either of those subjects so…? What's the hang up?"

"I do not know how to speak to you anymore." It was not the words which Fenris' spoke that dragged a cool dagger through Garrett's heart, but rather the way he said it. His voice was steady but held a distinct edge of sadness. Green eyes shifting down and away as slender ears drooped. It was like watching Fenris try to tell him about the Fog Warriors all over again.

"Fenris, before we were ever lovers we were friends. I hope that even after…" _After I pretended that you didn't exist and then knocked you out,_ "after everything that happened. I would like it if we could truly be friends again. This may anger you or I don't know surprise you but…I want to still be here for you when you need me. And I want you to know that if you ever are in trouble you can come to me."

"I…I wish to be able to move as freely as you do," Fenris breathed out shakily, uncertain as to why he suddenly felt unease circling his mind and heart. "You were able to see past _us_ and find a new path. I want to be able to do the same but I find myself…I am still _me_ it seems."

"Well…I would hope you were still you? You not being you defeats the purpose of knowing _you_ and liking who _you_ are."

"You mock me…"

"No," the big mage interjected carefully as he took a drink from his cup. "I do not mean to mock you. I just am not following what you mean? You hope to one day find someone who can love you as you need to be loved? Someone after me and you what, don't think that is possible? Because it is!"

"I do not know if _love_ is something that truly appeals to me," the elf admitted softly. That brought the other man up short. Garrett sat in disbelief for a minute, his brain trying to process Fenris' admission, but he could not. He couldn't imagine being with someone without the promise or assumption of love being somewhere in the equation.

That Fenris possibly could was a shocking revelation.

"I am…ill-suited to matters of the heart Hawke, you know that better than anyone. Matters of the body I am almost equally under equipped to handle. A relationship in its traditional meaning is an alien thing to me. I _understand_ how it is all _supposed_ to work but I find that I am unable to actually _do_ most of it. And any time I try to I…make a mess of it all."

Something sparked in Hawke's gaze which narrowed upon the elf. Fenris shifted under that look, knowing it all too well.

"I've noticed that you spend a great deal of time with Bull…he treats people like a box of assorted chocolates. I think that you want a more fulfilling partnership than what _his_ idea would be. Don't try to convince yourself otherwise just to appease him."

"No that is not…Hawke please. Bull is not trying to court me," Fenris stammered out suddenly flustered by the turn of the conversation.

"Of course he isn't, he's trying to bed you. Maker's breath I suspect he's already gone through half of Skyhold's inhabitance if not more! He is a terrifyingly brilliant spy and a peerless warrior but a _one person show_ kind of man he is not."

And Fenris had already known that and in truth, it did not bother the elf one bit.

To him it was rather freeing.

When he had entered his relationship with Hawke things had been different. He had never had someone to call _his own_ before. The responsibility of it all had stifled him, humiliated him when he failed and driven he and Hawke apart more than it had ever brought them together. With Bull, no it was not clear to him what they were or what they were doing, but there was a certain comfort in that. He could continue to do as he pleased while also knowing that Bull would be there in one way or another…

Or would have been, had he not offended the Qunari.

"The Iron Bull and I…" Fenris trailed off as his words stuck in his throat, awkward and misshapen. He took a few hefty gulps of his own tankard, watching over the rim as Garrett's face slowly bloomed into a look of utter shock.

"You…you and he…huh…but you are not an item?"

"No, not that I…it was not discussed and that I am _fine_ with. What I am not fine with is…before he left with the others to go scouting in the Emerald Graves um…"

"Now _this_ I do want to know," Garrett blurted out noting the shy way Fenris was attempting to hide a deep crimson blush.

"We…Varric…may have _interrupted_ us in a fashion and I…I said something which I believe has angered The Iron Bull." Hawke did nothing but stare for a long minute. Then the big mage swallowed hard and motioned for Fenris to continue. "I said something to the effect of no one knowing about us. I did not mean it as it sounded…I do not know what I meant by what I said, I only know that I wish I had said nothing. Shortly after…immediately after that he left and assured me that no one would have to know about _us_ in any fashion."

Garrett's eyes fell lightly shut.

He knew the pain of Fenris' careless words, but watching the elf speak of such a blunder perpetrated upon another let him see clearly for the first time how much it distressed the elf.

"Why am I the way I am…you would think that I would _learn_ at some point."

"You are the way you are because of the same reasons every other person is as they are. You are not the first person to say something they regretted in the heat of the moment. And come on Fenris, it's Bull. Your words probably hurt him a little, but considering who _he_ is you just wait, by the time we return and he returns he'll have forgotten about it. If it's important to you though you could talk to him you know?"

"Because I am so good at that…"

Garrett sighed as he cast a soft smile at his former lover and leaned out to place a hand on the elf's jutting knee.

"Well, you'll never get better without practice."


	41. Chapter 41: Lost Connection

**It has been a while dear readers. I hope you all are well. Please enjoy this latest installment. If I have my way more will come sooner rather than later. I should warn you however that the threads between canon and my own head about to all but vanish.**

* * *

Fenris could not believe how comfortable it was to once more be a simple acquaintance of Garrett Hawke.

The thought had first stuck him as he watched the big mage assist the crew haul in the main sail as they docked in the Val Royeaux port and continued to settle in his mind as they began walking the city's streets. It had been years since they had been like this, bolstered by the presence of one another, no words needing to pass between them as they traveled.

He recalled how unsettled the easy unspoken tandem had made him when they had first met. How he had instantly become angry at himself for letting his guard down so quickly around a mage and how he had continued to struggle against it for months afterward.

Now he realized that he had been missing it. Not initially once they had become lovers, but in the weeks and year that had followed. There had been an acute tension that did not suit either of them. It nearly destroyed their friendship and the mindless companionship that had bonded them together.

Ice flooded his belly at that thought then just as quickly melted away.

But it had _not_.

Hawke was still there, still alive, still willing to speak to him despite all that they had been through. Their friendship had endured.

"What are you smiling about?"

Fenris let out a gust of embarrassed laughter but did not hide his grin. Instead he turned his gaze fully to the mage walking at his side as he said, "I am merely happy that we are friends Hawke." Garrett's eyebrows rose towards his hairline and he blinked at the elf as he stopped in the middle of the street. A warm answering smile split the Ferelden native's lips as he rested a hand on Fenris' left shoulder.

"I am glad as well. I need my friends and there are so few people worth calling so. I think that we are better like _this_ anyway…I hope that does not offend you! I would never do anything differently between us…I mean, you know, as we were in Kirkwall. Do you know what I mean?"

The elf nodded as he gave the mage a firm pat on the back as he regained his own stride, "I do."

"Good," Garrett said as he let out a whoosh of breath. "Ah! There is Ponchard's shop," the big man said sounding as giddy as any child. "Let's get this medallion back!"

The duo walked into the canopy shaded shop and milled around surveying the layout of the room while they waited for the other customers to conclude their business and leave. Once the last patron had left Fenris silently moved to block the front door and Garrett stepped to Ponchard's right blocking him from the side door.

"Hello," the big mage said calmly, "I have an interest in one of your items Ser."

"Ah, a Ferelden, we've seen more of you coming through since proper order was restored," the shop keep responded tightly. "And which of my items would you be interested in viewing for purchase today?"

"Well that's the thing," Garrett continued candidly. "It is not the kind of item that one would simply place on a shelf or hang from a hook on a wall and try to pawn off to just anyone who happened to wander through. Unless you have so many family crests that you wouldn't mind one just being pilfered out from under your nose?"

"Ah," the portly Orlesian said his eyes sparking as he drew out the sound. A hand came to rest at the chin of his mask stroking as he eyed the big mage with fresh eyes. "The Pavus family crest is what you are alluding to, yes?" Garrett nodded slowly.

"That is correct Ser. If you would be so kind as so simply name your price, my associate and I can be gone in just however long it takes you to hand over the crest."

"Hm. Yes that would be a rather tidy transaction but unfortunately for you, I do not keep such a precious item lying about. It is not here and it will take some time to reclaim. And then there is the matter of payment. I am not about to hand over that kind of power for gold or jewels. What kind of businessman do you take me for? No, a favor for a favor. That is the price."

"Is the favor of sparing your life not enough you greedy worm." Fenris' deep snarl made the cocky certainty fade from the shop keep's eyes. He stared at the elf for a long moment before swallowing hard and returning his gaze to Garrett.

"As appealing as your associate's offer is, I am afraid that I cannot accept those terms as generous as they might appear."

"Then you must have a specific favor in mind to hold to your terms so tightly? What is this favor then, tell me and if it is within my power and moral favor perhaps we can strike a deal?"

Ponchard wrung his hands together nervously but the excited light had made its way back into his gaze. "I wish to become a member of the Celestine League however I lack the appropriate titles in order to even be considered a member. A person with the right connections might be able to remedy the League's attitude towards admitting a commoner like myself into their ranks. That is my only offer. You get me into the League and I will send you the amulet."

"What would your intentions in this little clique be? If the members are as lofty in clout as you say, your ideas and vote could mean much to the people of Orlais."

"My father sold fish from a tiny stall as my mother laundered and mended every kerchief and gown she could in order to make a living. She was a masterful seamstress, but, any attempt my mother made at purchasing a shop was stonewalled. Not because my parents had not saved the appropriate funds, not because they were of ill repute with their clients but because they did not possess old money or old ties to the market class. I clawed my way up from the dirt to be where I am now, yet my words my ideas mean nothing because I am not noble born. This must change. If I gain entry to the League at least another voice will be heard!"

Garrett sent Fenris a look, noting the slight elevation of the elf's own brow. Neither of them had expected such an impassioned response.

"Then you shall be heard," the mage finally said with a hearty nod. "I would like the amulet please before I leave though. But I can promise you Ponchard that you shall be seated in the Celestine League before the week's end. I shall write to the Inquisitor myself, now if you wish, and request this favor for you. I am Messer Garrett Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall and I swear to you now that this shall be done."

* * *

"I have not seen you so readily wield your title before."

Garrett's fingers gently caressed the weighty pendant hanging in the center of his chest. A smile spread his lips as he carefully tucked the pale engraving back beneath his robes and chuckled. "Yeah the whole _'Champion'_ thing was never really something that I found pertinent to throw around…but this time it seemed like it would actually hold some meaning to the one who heard it. And it worked! Ha!"

Fenris grinned at the silly look on his friend's face and shook his head. "Do you think that Dorian will be pleased to see this again…from what you said he has gone to great lengths to distance himself from Tevinter. Selling his birthright is a very serious thing, perhaps something he did not wish to be undone?"

"Well then if that's the case he can just turn right around and sell it again. Or mail it back to his family in a box along with an engagement picture of him and me, or something outlandish like that. He has a flare for these kinds of things you see."

"I can imagine," the elf retorted with a barking laugh. "Most Tevinters do you know? You wouldn't be able to stand it where he is from."

"I don't know the whole blood magic and ritual sacrifice part is really starting to grow on me…ouch!" Fenris' well-placed elbow left the big mage rubbing at his side.

"Enough of you and your talk of the Altus, I am starving," the white haired warrior said as he moved towards a nearby ally. "There is an inn back this way yes, closer to the docks?"

"Yes, we passed it on our way in, can't remember the name though. Whatever it was I do know that it was nowhere near as catchy as the Hanged Man!"

"Hopefully it is less ill-fated as the Hanged Man as well," Fenris said with a twitch of his ears. The elf slowed to a stop, the skin at the back of his neck chilling and prickling without warning. Garrett brushed past him and continued on a few steps before also halting.

"Fenris…?"

Something was wrong. Very wrong, and he had been too caught up in the easy banter to notice.

Too late the elf reached for the blade at his back.

Strong arms suddenly reach from him from every side dragging him to the dirt. He flailed, phasing a clawed hand through one attacker as he heard Garrett unleash an uncoordinated fireball. Something clamped hard around his neck and suddenly the lyrium song in his body died. Still the elf struggled, until the blunted end of a hilt collided with the side of his temple.

* * *

Cullen arrived back in Skyhold victorious. His scouting party had managed to solidify their hold along a strategic mountain pass and made it back to the stronghold with no casualties and a large cache of precious metals. The Commander had expected an uneventful welcome home followed by a few days of settling back into the rhythm of his duties.

He unloaded his horse, sent a runner to Josephine with his reports and made his way to his office and quarters without fanfare. Another runner brought him a tray of supper which he left on his desk as he sat down to remove his boots. His fingers had barely scratched the laces when he felt eyes upon him.

Abruptly Cullen was on his feet, hand at his sword as he turned to face the intruder only to find a grim looking Leliana standing in the shadows.

"Maker's breath," the general muttered lowering his sword and shaking his head. "I don't know if you have realized this but I am _not_ getting any younger Spymaster and being snuck up on does not _help_."

"I am sorry Commander I…"

The hitch in Leliana's voice, a tinge of sorrow and anger, drew Cullen's collective senses to a honed point. "Tara's scouting party?"

"No," the red head responded shaking her head. "No the Inquisitor is safe and only a day's ride away should the weather not slow her pace. It is Garrett…he and Fenris traveled to Orlais following a lead that I had given the Champion. This was the same night that Tara's party left and they should have been back by now."

"They are missing…together?" Leliana nodded her lips a thin line.

"My agents lost track of them once they left the Val Royeaux market district. They were to collect an item of great value and then return. It should not have taken more than a day…but it has been weeks now."

"This item, could someone have accosted them over it? Surely those two would put up a great deal of fuss if they were attacked…they always did in Kirkwall anyway?"

"That is the other thing…" Cullen watched as the Spymaster produced a small package and plucked aside the loose paper to reveal a pendant and a letter. "This arrived yesterday…it was addressed to Dorian. This is the item that Garrett went to reclaim. It is the Pavus family birthright, something which holds a significant amount of value in Tevinter. Had it not come I would have been inclined to believe that someone from there or someone knowing the worth of the medallion had set upon the two. But now there is another possibility which I otherwise would not have readily considered."

"You think that they have run off together?"

The red head again nodded.

"It has begun to appear much more likely that this is what has happened."

"What does the note say?"

* * *

There was no kiss waiting for him when he awoke. No lingering warmth upon the covers and pillow at his side. The light of dawn filtered in glistening over the specs of dust which floated aimlessly through the silence filled room above him.

A fresh wash of tears burned their way into his eyes and he blinked angrily against them.

He still could not believe any of it…it simply could not be.

Dorian sat up, rubbing the hard heel of his hand over his eyes before allowing them to fall upon the crumpled paper lying upon the floor across the room. Pain riffled through his heart and stomach as he moved to pick up the twisted ball. He sat back on the edge of the large bed and slowly smoothed the parchment back into a semblance of a normal sheet. The ink swam before him as he read the words once more.

 ** _Dorian,_**

 ** _How does one say the things I must? Every time I begin this letter I cannot believe it has come to pass. Listen to me now. Please, if you can, do not hate me. Unknown to you Fenris and I went to reclaim your family crest. See for yourself we were even successful. Many days have passed since we first left Skyhold. Only now do I find the courage to tell you that we will not return. Change for the better is before us both. However you decide to use your birthright now is entirely up to you. Usually now is when I would tell you I love you. I do love you, with all that I am. Living this way however is something I cannot do. So now I must say goodbye. End script._**

 ** _Garrett_**

It was perhaps the strangest letter Dorian had ever received. But, even Marian had been able to begrudgingly confirm that the style was that of her brother's reports. The dry choppy structure easily explained due to the contents of the message therein. At first he had hoped that the penmanship would have been shown to be a hand other than Garrett's, but Leliana had already allowed someone compare the lettering to several of the mage's other missives.

If it was a fake, it was pristine.

It Garrett did not write it, then why had whoever did not keep the medallion?

Dorian sighed and folded the letter carefully before setting it aside so he could dress. He would ask Tara to outfit him with a company and gear. One way or another when it came to this, he was not going to accept the scrawl across a scrap of paper. The truth of the matter was out _there_ somewhere.

And he was going to find it.


End file.
